


Repent At Leisure

by TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Thranduil, F/M, Hurt/Angry Thranduil, Jealous Thranduil, Misjudged Characters, Modern Day Story, Modern Thranduil, Parent Thranduil, Slow Burn, Thranduil Love, Thranduil Lust, Violence, business arrangement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 87,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: Alisha has spent years carefully nursing her elderly patient. As he nears death, a towering, angry blonde storms in and horrifies her with his outburst and his evil statements. She hates him on sight, and he doesn't think much of her either. The order of things change, situations turn themselves upside down, and horrific discoveries are made. Aside from this, Thranduil is fighting the battle of his life, and enlists Alisha's help.Slowly and gradually, things begin to change between them. She sees a troubled businessman who stands to lose the most important thing in the world, and he sees a gentle, tender woman who he has misjudged. Scared of jeopardizing their situation, both deny their feelings to themselves and continue to pretend all is right with the world.But it isn't.And it's about to take a major crash.





	1. Chapter 1

** CHAPTER ONE **

****

Wary eyes tracked upwards as the figure at the other end of the highly polished table unfolded and stood, rising to his full height of six feet five. Ice blue eyes glared coldly from beneath heavy dark eyebrows, long blonde hair flowed down over his shoulders, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I will not even dignify your preposterous suggestion with a response,” he said, his words calculated and decisive. “I do not intend to waste my intelligence even considering what you have said. This meeting is over.”

“But Thranduil-“

“Enough!” One of the fists crashed down onto the table, making the half-empty cups wobble with the shock waves. “Do you even know how ridiculous it sounds? Did you think before you opened your mouth and allowed the absurdity that festers within your head to escape? No, you did not. I don’t even know why I employ you.”

The other man, who had remained seated, sighed resolutely as he shuffled his paperwork together into a neat pile. “I’m afraid I can see no other option,” he said. Blue eyes went back to the angry blonde who towered over him. “You’re looking at a lengthy and not to mention ridiculously expensive court battle, which you stand a very good chance of losing.”

Thranduil clenched his teeth together and turned away, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He stared out of the window, seeing nothing from the office high up in the skyscraper building. Thoughts swirled around in his mind, chased rapidly by elevating levels of anger and frustration. There had to be a solution, one which didn’t verge on lunacy.

“How long do I have?” he asked, after a lengthy silence.

The man behind him hesitated. “I would say the sooner you tackle this, the better your options are,” he replied. “The longer you leave it, the worse it’s going to be. It’s not going to go away overnight; it’ll simply fester and grow and turn into something that you won’t be able to fix.”

Ice blue eyes clashed with his as the blonde turned swiftly. “I will let you know. I’ll call you.”

The man pursed his lips and nodded, knowing there was nothing more to be said on the subject. “I’ll instruct my secretary to withhold any correspondence,” he said. “And I’ll wait to hear from you.”

“Thankyou, Gandalf,” he acknowledged. “You will hear as soon as I decide which course of action to take.”

“Just don’t take too long about it,” the older man advised as he stood up. He held his hand out. “I trust you’ll come up with something.”

Thranduil took it in a firm handshake. “I will. This is not over, not by a long way.”

Gandalf nodded, releasing his grip and lifting his briefcase as he turned to leave.

Both heads turned as an urgent knock sounded, and the door opened.

“Sir, I’m afraid I have some important news for you,” the secretary said.

The two men exchanged looks.

*****

Alisha hummed softly to herself as she placed her hand onto the closed lid of the blender, her thoughts miles away as the machine whirred into action at the touch of a button. The world around her was changing, and she needed to take a step back and look at the bigger picture and assess what options were available to her. An organised creature by habit, she sometimes struggled with massive changes that altered everything around her.

This one however, was destined to alter the course of her life and everything she was used to. Every single thing around her was going to change, and if fate had anything to do with it, it would be sooner rather than later. Powerless to do anything about it, she had no choice but to accept whatever the future held. Time was not on her side, but she’d known for a long time that this day would eventually be upon her.

Switching off the blender, she poured the liquidised concoction into a small white bowl, and took the plastic spoon from the drawer next to her. Straightening her shoulders in determination, she headed through the house and ascended the expensively carpeted staircase that wound in a curve to the upper floor.

She entered the master bedroom, which was bathed in sunlight, softened by the drapes which were closed in an attempt to shield the room from the harsh brightness. The air was pleasantly warm, but not overly so. The surroundings were plush but comfortable, the quality and expense evident in the furnishings.

Alisha lowered herself into a padded seat beside the bed, setting the bowl and spoon onto the bedside unit. She lifted a hand and gently touched the bed’s occupant on the cheek. “Ted,” she said quietly. “Ted, are you awake?”

The old man’s eyelids fluttered open after a second or two, his dazed stare landing on her as he struggled to focus. A small smile tugged at his dry, cracked lips.

“Hey…how are you feeling?” she asked as she returned his smile. “Let me moisten your lips for you. I’ve made something for you to eat.”

Ted smiled weakly. “I don’t think there’s any point,” he said, his voice fragile. “Besides, I’m not hungry.”

She tilted her head to one side, studying him as she gently dabbed his lips with a moist cloth kept at the side of the bed for that purpose. “You know you should have something,” she told him. “At the very least, you need to keep your fluids up. You’re not taking enough.”

“Enough to what?” he asked. “It’s not like I’m going to make a miraculous recovery and start dancing around.” His words required great effort, evident in the way he spoke.

“I know,” she agreed softly. “But you’ll be more comfortable if you drink.”

He turned his head away, closing his eyes.

“Ted,” she whispered. “Come on Ted, try a little soup.”

He didn’t answer.

She leaned back in the chair, rubbing her eyes in an exhausted gesture. She wasn’t physically tired, just emotionally wrought. Leaning over, she checked the flow of the catheter, happy to find that it was draining well and the drainage tube was free of any blockage.

“I’ll check your pad if that’s alright, Ted,” she said, getting to her feet.

He remained silent, dutifully lifting his hips from the mattress as she pulled the quilt back and lowered his pyjama bottoms. Gentle movements rolled him onto his side, and she quickly cleaned him and replaced the pad.

“Do you want to stay on your side for a while?” she asked. “You really don’t want pressure sores from lying in the one position for too long.”

“Not that it’ll make much difference,” the old man replied, but nodded his head.

She took a spare pillow and slid it lengthwise against his back, making sure it was flush to his body for support. “Is that comfortable?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Take the food away, Alisha. I don’t want it.”

Her heart fell. “If you’re sure,” she said after a short pause.

No reply.

She lifted the untouched bowl of soup and quietly left the room, pulling the door behind her so that it closed over without clicking into the lock.

*****

Thranduil tapped his thumb on the leather covered steering wheel, annoyed. The sun was beating down, practically cooking him even though he’d opened the windows in the SUV. Ice cold air blasted from the air con, but it did little against the burning temperatures.

The traffic ahead had ground to a complete stand-still, and nothing had moved in the last half hour as emergency services had toiled relentlessly to clear the wreckage from an auto accident off the freeway. Irate drivers were lined up for miles, each and every one of them desperate to make some headway on wherever they were going. The lines of backed-up traffic were clearly visible in his rear view mirror as he glared into it.

The line in front of him gradually began to crawl forward, inch by agonising inch, and he itched to slam his foot down and overtake the vehicles holding him up. Cranking the cd player up a few notches, he rolled his shoulders and mentally prepared himself for the task that lay ahead.

This was a day that he had been both waiting for and dreading, both in equal measure. His thoughts turned to his mother, a sadness settling over him as images of her filled his mind. Memories of her laughing and carefree, playing with him as a young child, ever careful to hide the agony that lived within her soul. The images changed, to when he reached his teenage years, and she had been unable to hide her thoughts from him any longer. Either she had grown weary of the façade, or he’d become more astute as the years had rolled by at seeing through her masquerade.

He didn’t know which was true.

Perhaps both.

The sadness filtered to anger as the large car picked up a little speed, the traffic in front accelerating. Nothing could change what had happened to her, nothing could erase the painful memories associated with what he was replaying in his mind’s eye. The damage had been done; the fabric of what he’d believed had been torn apart and could never be repaired.

And no-one had paid the price for that.

Yet.

He inhaled deeply as he passed the scene of carnage, glancing briefly as he passed without giving so much as a second or two of his attention. More important things were calling to him, and he needed to take care of them. Swigging from a bottle of water and gripping it between his knees to replace the cap, he tossed it over his shoulder onto the back seat and flexed his grip on the steering wheel.

Almost an hour passed before the car pulled up outside a large stately home. Turning the engine off, he sat back in the leather driver’s seat and let his gaze roam over the building. It reeked of money, but he knew that meant nothing. Money couldn’t buy the redemption that the occupant would undoubtedly beg for as his final hours crept upon him.

Anger filled his soul, and his eyes narrowed as he stared up at the house. He mentally shook himself and opened the door, undoing his seat belt and stepping out onto the gravel driveway. It crunched beneath his feet as the door closed with a slam, which echoed throughout the spacious grounds.

Long strides carried him across the drive and up the wide steps to the main door, where he leaned his weight against the doorbell.

The door opened within a few moments, revealing a young woman.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” he said coldly. “I am here to see Ted.”

She hesitated. “Is he expecting you?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he replied, stepping past her and into the house. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked, a frown on her face.

He whirled round to glare down at her. No doubt this was the old man’s latest acquisition. Goddammit, she looked even younger than him.

“Tell him Thranduil is here,” he demanded.

One eyebrow twitched. “Please wait here,” she said, turning and disappearing up the stairs.

He snorted softly to himself, turning his attention to his surroundings. The walls were panelled in a rich dark oak, with several landscape paintings on display. Tasteful lamps placed with careful thought radiated soft light onto the paintings, emphasising them for the viewer to appreciate.

He rolled his eyes with a subtle shake of his head.

His thoughts turned to the woman who had answered the door. She couldn’t have been more than thirty, give or take a year or two. And she wasn’t Ted’s usual floozy; she hadn’t been caked in thick makeup, no highly-polished talon-like fingernails, designer clothes or heaving cleavage on display. She seemed more sedate, more diluted in her appearance. Maybe the old man had been desperate, or maybe she had pled poverty in the hope of a windfall at the end of it all.

Another soft snort.

The sound of her feet on the thick carpet made him turn, and he eyed her with distain as she descended the stairs, one hand on the quality bannister.

“You can come up,” she said.

He didn’t answer as he crossed over the hallway and went up behind her. The male in him noticed the sway of her ass as she walked up before him, her tight jeans hugging her hips and long legs like a second skin. Long black hair swished past her waist as she moved, the rhythmic swing hypnotising him.

He blinked as he pushed his lecherous thoughts aside with determination. This was one trollop who didn’t deserve a second of his time.

“He’s in here,” she said, and for the first time, he noticed her accent.

Ignoring it, he followed her through a heavy wooden door, his eyes settling on a large bed. The quilt did a good job of shielding the figure underneath, with hardly even a slight rise to indicate that someone was actually occupying the space. The room held a comfortable level of warmth without being too cool or overly hot. Heavy curtains over the massive windows kept the dazzling sunlight at bay.

His gaze moved towards the pillows, focusing on the head that turned towards him.

“I didn’t think you would come here,” the coarse voice said.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he replied.

One eyebrow lifted briefly. “And to think I thought that you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I only came to make sure you actually die.”

The woman gasped, unable to keep the horror from her face.

Ted lifted a feeble hand and waved dismissively. “Don’t worry Alisha; I’d be more concerned about _his_ health than mine if he’d said anything different,” he rasped. “We go back a long way.”

“That’s no excuse!” she cried, appalled. “I don’t know who you-“

“This has nothing to do with you,” Thranduil interrupted sharply. “I have no interest in what your relationship is. I don’t care about you, or your feelings, or what you think. Do not judge me. You don’t have that right.”

Her head shook as anger flowed through her. “How _dare_ you come into the home of a dying man, and say such things?!”

He took a step towards her, a smirk on his face and a cold cruelness in his blue eyes. “I have waited for _years_ for this day,” he hissed. “And nothing shall keep me from relishing every single moment of it. Not even a desperate gold-digger.”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“Alisha, go and make our guest a cup of coffee,” Ted spoke up, his breathing laboured. “And pay no attention to his anger or his ranting.”

She glared up at the ridiculously tall blonde who loomed over her, refusing to be intimidated by his height. He smiled a cold smile down at her.

“Yes, run along and be a good girl,” he said mockingly.

“Get your own damned coffee,” she retorted.

“Alisha.”

The single word stopped her in her tracks as she opened her mouth to spew obscenities to the unwelcome guest, and she lowered her head instead.

“Coffee, please,” Ted repeated.

She hesitated, reluctant to leave the room.

“I’ll be fine,” he wheezed. “Don’t worry. He hasn’t come to finish me off. He wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

She threw a hateful glance towards the blonde, who returned it with just as much venom, but stayed silent.

“Do you need anything, Ted?” she asked, her tone softer as she touched his cheek gently.

Thranduil shook his head in disgust, but kept his thoughts to himself.

The old man shook his head to say no, and she stepped past the intruder to leave the room. Both occupants waited until the door had closed before eyeing each other.

“I’m surprised you came,” Ted said. “Who told you?”

“Your attorney,” Thranduil replied. “Apparently you’ve made me the sole benefactor of your estate.”

“Yes,” he rasped. “There is no-one else to leave it to.”

The blonde stepped closer to the bed, leaning down so that his hair swept over the quilt. “You know I’m going to burn this house to the ground,” he whispered, his mouth close to his ear. “And everything in it.”

Faded eyes met his in a flash of anger. “That’s your choice, you despicable bastard,” he grunted. “Just remember there’s someone else who lives here.”

“Then maybe you should leave it to your little slut,” he spat. “Don’t expect miracles from me, old man. I intend to take every pleasure out of watching you struggle for your last breath. I hope you burn in the depths of hell.”

“I thought that maybe time would have mellowed you,” Ted said, leaning his head back onto the pillow. “It appears it’s only made you worse.”

“Did you honestly expect anything else?” Thranduil asked rhetorically. “Honestly? Because if you did, you are in for a sore landing when you eventually crash into reality as you leave this world. You disgust me.”

“And yet you still made a two hour drive to be here,” he murmered as his eyes closed.

“Yes. I won’t rest until I know your soul has finally left to begin its journey into hell,” he replied. He stood back to his full height, staring down at the pitiful and frail figure with hatred in his eyes.

That same hatred stopped Alisha in her tracks as she came back into the room, coming to a halt halfway over the threshold. Her wide eyes darted to Ted in alarm.

Thranduil smirked. “I haven’t killed him,” he drawled. “Although the thought has crossed my mind.” Cold eyes bored into hers as she looked up at him. “But it would be too quick. I want him to suffer. I want him to fight for every last god-forsaken breath. I want him to _know_ that all he faces is complete silence and darkness until time runs out. Ending his miserable existence quickly would deny him that.”

She took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. “You have no soul,” she whispered. “No heart.”

One shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “Like I care what you think.”

“Everything’s set up in the kitchen downstairs if you want to make yourself a coffee,” she said, a hard streak infusing into her voice. “I’m not here to be your slave; you can make it yourself.” She walked past him to the bed.

“I think I’ll decline the hospitality,” he replied casually. “I wouldn’t put it past the old bastard to have you poison the coffee. I can live without it.”

Her head snapped up as she glared at him, her jaw clenched tightly in anger. But she held her tongue, and turned her attention back to Ted.

Thranduil dragged a chair away from the wall and threw himself down into it, crossing one long leg over the other.

Alisha ignored him.

*****

Ever aware of cold blue eyes watching her like a hawk, she stifled a yawn and moved to pick up a small plastic tube with a plunger. At first, Thranduil thought it was a syringe, but he noted that it had no needle. She pulled back the plunger and filled it with clear fluid, before turning back to the bed.

“Let me moisten your mouth, Ted,” she said softly as she took the damp cloth from the unit next to her.

Careful, gentle dabs provided a coat of moisture onto the old man’s dry, cracked mouth, and she set it aside once she was satisfied. He watched as she touched her thumb to his lower lip, gently lowering it and placing the tip of the tube into his mouth. Slowly depressing the plunger, she took her time emptying only about three millilitres of the fluid into him. The old man struggled to swallow, and her brows came down in a concerned frown. She kept the plunger in place, slowly releasing the rest as she used her free hand to lift the telephone from beside the lamp.

“Hi, it’s Alisha,” she said as the line connected. “I think you’d better come on over.”

Thranduil uncrossed his legs and re-crossed them, tapping his lifted foot as he absorbed everything.

“Ok,” she said after a silence. “The door’s open.”

The receiver was placed back where it had originated from, and she turned her full attention back to Ted. Some of the fluid had leaked from the corner of his mouth, and she wiped it away.

“If this is what you came for, then your patience has paid off,” she said, after a long silence.

He uncrossed his legs again, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “How long?”

A non-committal shrug was his answer.

It didn’t matter. He had all the time in the world to wait.

The sound of tyres on the gravel below caught his attention twenty minutes later, his eyes glancing towards the closed curtains.

Alisha didn’t react, her gaze lifting occasionally to the clock on the wall as she held Ted’s wrist.

The bedroom door opened, presenting a scruffy, harassed-looking middle-aged man.

“Alisha,” he greeted her, ignoring Thranduil. “Update?”

“He’s unable to swallow, not responding to verbal stimulation,” she replied. “Pulse is down to twenty one, respirations are at fourteen, and laboured.”

The man set a bag down on the floor beside the bed, leaning over the elderly man. “He’s changing colour,” he murmered. “It’s imminent. Let me check his vitals.” He bent down and rooted around inside the bag, emerging with a blood pressure monitor and a stethoscope. He moved to fit the cuff of the monitor, stopping as Ted released a shuddering, gasping breath.

Nobody moved.

The seconds ticked past in silence.

The old man’s chest didn’t rise again.

The doctor sighed, fitting the cuff and inflating it. He switched on a small pen light and checked his eyes. “Pupils dilated and fixed,” he muttered to himself. Two fingers pressed against his neck. “Carotid pulse absent.” A quick glance at the monitor. “Blood pressure zero.”

Alisha lowered her head, her hand squeezing Ted’s as she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. A heavy silence filled the room.

Thranduil watched the proceedings with interest, more notably her reaction. She didn’t shed a tear, but he saw a slight tremble as she lifted a hand to tuck her long hair behind her ear. Her face was pale and drawn from what he could see of her profile.

“I’ll re-check in ten minutes,” the doctor said quietly. “But he’s gone.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s over.”

The faintest smirk tugged at one corner of Thranduil’s mouth. At last.

The man’s gaze finally acknowledged his presence.

“Doctor Harry Miles,” he said, stepping around her with his hand extended.

Thranduil rose from the chair and took his hand in a handshake. “Thranduil Oropherion,” he introduced himself.

“And you are..?” the doctor enquired curiously.

He smiled. “His nephew.”


	2. Chapter 2

** CHAPTER TWO **

****

Alisha emerged from the shower, exhausted and drained beyond human comprehension. She’d hardly slept a wink the entire night, her thoughts filled with memories of the old man she’d taken care of for so long. The previous day had ruled her mind, with images of his final hours and his struggle as his body finally gave in and succumbed to the inevitable death that had beckoned him.

Equally, thoughts of the blonde stranger invaded her mind.

She’d been horrified at his words and how he’d reacted to Ted, and even more shocked to discover that he was his nephew. How someone as gentle and compassionate as the old man could have been related in any way to the cold, cruel, heartless monster who had barged in, was lost to her. They looked nothing like one another, and she knew from memories that he’d been nowhere near as tall as Thranduil. His eyes had never held that shade of ice blue, instead being a warm brown. What little hair he’d had was streaked heavily with white, but old photographs had depicted a full head of dark brown hair.

Where the white-blonde had come from, she didn’t know. She wasn’t even sure he’d been telling the truth when he claimed to be his nephew.

The doctor had dutifully rechecked vital signs after the statutory ten minutes, declaring time of death at nineteen twenty nine hours, before assisting her with the aftercare. Together, they’d removed the catheter, carefully washed and changed the body, dressing him in his chosen attire of plain black trousers and a light blue shirt. She’d brushed his wispy hair and made him look presentable, before leaving the room.

The doctor had stood for about twenty minutes with her just inside the main door, talking in hushed tones. He promised to have the death certificate ready for the following morning, and she agreed to collect it herself. The body had remained in the house, as per Ted’s wish, with the undertakers arriving late on to place him in a coffin.

She’d eventually given up and gone to bed, not even caring what Thranduil had chosen to do, although she took the precaution of locking her bedroom door. He hadn’t said where he was staying, or if he was staying at all, and had spoken very few words to her. Nothing had been cast her way after Ted had drawn his last breath.

She jumped in fright as she went down into the kitchen to prepare her coffee, and found him sitting balanced on a stool at the breakfast bar, studying his laptop with a half-empty coffee sitting next to him.

Choosing to ignore him, she pulled the sash of her bathrobe tighter around herself and approached the kettle.

Behind her, he watched her as she prepared her morning beverage. His eyes swept down her body, lingering on her bare, shapely legs, before drifting up to the voluptuous rear that was currently being caressed by the silk bathrobe. Grudgingly admitting to himself that the old man had had a habit of choosing the ones with totally fuckable bodies, he frowned and turned back to the laptop.

The coffee jar thudded onto the worktop, followed by the clatter of a spoon and the drawer slamming closed.

“Having a bad day?” he quipped.

She stiffened, and he bit back an evil smile as he saw her backbone tighten.

“I won’t even dignify that with a reply,” she said.

“Good,” he responded. “Because last night’s events were just the beginning.”

She poured the hot water into her cup, stirring the strong, sweet black liquid before tossing the spoon carelessly into the sink. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes.” His blonde head lifted and he fixed her with his icy gaze. “The cremation has been organised for tomorrow. The day after is the will reading, after which you have twenty four hours to vacate this house.”

The cup dropped out of her numb fingers and landed on the worktop, wobbling precariously.

“What?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Did all that indecent behaviour with the old man dull your hearing?” he snapped. “Twenty four hours after the will reading; not a minute longer. The discussion is closed.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God,” she murmered. “You really are one cold hearted bastard. Ted’s not even cold yet.”

“Trust me – he’s cold,” he replied flippantly. “His estate has been left to me, and I want rid of this nightmare of a house as soon as possible.”

“In that case, you don’t have to wait for another few days,” she snapped, jumping out of her trance-like state, brought on by the shock of his announcement. “The house is yours. You’re welcome to it.” She stormed out of the kitchen, tears gathering in her eyes as she realised she had nowhere to go.

But hell would freeze over before she admitted that to him.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she flew along the upper hallway and into her room, where she stopped and spun round in circles, her hands in her hair. Panic controlled her now, with the knowledge that she couldn’t spend a single second more in his company, or in this house.

She grabbed a holdall from the base of the walk-in closet and began shoving essentials into it. Clean underwear and socks. A few pairs of trousers and some tops. A hairbrush. Some toiletries. Her bank card. Her mind and emotions were all over the place, and she couldn’t think straight as to what she should be packing.

Dragging a pair of black joggers from the shelf and a light t-shirt, she shrugged off the robe and pulled on underwear before dressing herself hurriedly. She fought off the urge to cry as she brushed her hair and tied it back into a loose ponytail. The knowledge that one day she’d have to leave what she considered to be her home had always been there, but she didn’t think it would have been so abrupt and sudden in its approach.

Or that it would approach with such brutality.

Her feet pounded on the stairs as she bounded down them, and she swiped her car keys from the worktop in the kitchen.

Cold eyes lifted from the laptop to meet hers. “Leaving so soon?” he mocked, drinking from his coffee cup.

“I’d rather not be in your presence any longer,” she replied. “The sooner I leave, the better.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he said smoothly.

Her jaw tightened. “Will you be attending the crematorium?”

He snorted. “Will I hell.”

“Fine.” She spun on her heel and disappeared, and he heard the main door slam loudly at the end of the hall.

He rolled his shoulders forwards and his head, loosening up stiff neck muscles. Now the gold-digger had left, he could settle down and sort his head out. Having her in the house had been a major distraction, although truth be told, he hadn’t heard a peep from her since the undertakers had left and she’d vanished into one of the bedrooms, where she’d stayed until recently. He’d spent the remainder of the previous evening contented in his own solitude, weighing things up in his mind and mentally sorting through pressing matters that were causing him to lose what little sleep he normally had.

Come daybreak, the world hadn’t been much clearer, but he’d showered and made his coffee with the determination that had taken him to the top of his field in his work life.

The insistent ringing of his cell phone broke into his thoughts, and he lifted it from where it lay beside the laptop.

“Gandalf,” he said by way of greeting.

“Thranduil,” the gruff voice returned. “How are things?”

He lounged back a little, resting his elbow on the worktop behind him. “As I expected,” he answered. “The old man died around half past seven last night. Everything’s in hand.”

The sound of the other man’s breathing echoed down the line. “Have you given any thought to my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Thranduil, you don’t have the luxury of time on your side with this,” he stressed. “You _must_ decide how you wish to proceed, and quickly.”

Thranduil sighed. “I’ll get to it,” he assured him. “Just not right now. Give me some space, for crying out loud.”

“You’re two hours’ drive away – how much space do you need?”

“Don’t push me, Gandalf,” he snapped irritably. “I’ve said I’ll deal with it, and I will. I’ll call you.” He swiped the screen on the phone, ending the conversation and locking the device. A grunt of frustration sounded as he slammed it back onto the breakfast bar. He ran both hands through his hair, then slammed the laptop closed as he rose from the stool.

The house was cloaked in deathly silence as he walked through it, his sharp gaze taking in everything around him. Furnishings and décor practically oozed money, but it didn’t impress him. The chilled air affected him more, sending a spike of ice cold down his back.

He passed the large lounge and headed up the stairs, intent on finding out as much as he could about the woman he’d just thrown out. The door to the room she’d occupied had been left ajar in her haste to leave, the sight making a cruel smile tug on his lips.

He pushed the door further open, stepping into the small but comfortable room, where he stopped in surprise.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn this was actually _her_ room, not one she’d used overnight simply to be away from the corpse that lay in the room further down the hallway. Her things were everywhere he looked.

The quilt on the bed was half turned back, the pillow still out of shape from where she’d lay there. Two books rested on top of the shabby bedside cabinet, the top one folded over partway through. A glass of water sat next to them. The sliding door of the large closet hadn’t been closed properly, and he pushed it aside with one finger, pursing his mouth as he perused the contents.

Most of her clothing still hung from hangers or was folded neatly onto the shelves. A couple of pairs of sneakers lay on the floor of the enclosed space. A stack of paperwork piled on top of a ring binder. A few cds wedged onto a shelf.

He slid the door closed and headed through to the small en-suite bathroom. The pyjamas she’d worn had been tossed into a small laundry basket. Small streams of water continued to trickle down the frosted glass shower enclosure from where she’d recently showered. The smell of cherry filled his nostrils.

He glanced at the unit against the wall next to the toilet. Various items of makeup lay strewn across the surface, along with coloured claw clips for her hair and some multi-coloured scrunchies. A can of hairspray sat towards the back next to an opened tube of toothpaste. A blue toothbrush was propped up in a clear plastic tumbler.

He pursed his full mouth, wondering what the hell was going on. Why weren’t her belongings in the old man’s room? Why were her clothes not tucked alongside his in the closet through there, instead of in this room? And more to the point, why hadn’t she taken everything when she left?

He turned back into the bedroom, his curiosity at an all-time high. Going back to the closet, he took out the ring binder and the papers which accompanied it, and crossed back to sit on the bed. The papers spread out on top of the quilt before him, and he frowned as he gathered information.

A contract of employment was the first thing to catch his attention, his frown deepening as he lifted it and studied it. Dated nine years previously, it outlined the requirements of the position. The signatures at the bottom were shown to be Ted’s and Alisha’s.

Folding one leg underneath him, he settled down and read through it.

The conditions were simple.

In return for her being at his beck and call around the clock, seven days a week, the old man would provide her with a home and a wage, the stated amount seeming rather paltry in Thranduil’s opinion. No visitors were allowed to stay over, although she was permitted to leave the grounds to socialise if Ted had company. One eyebrow lifted at this information – he clearly hadn’t relinquished his control streak.

Her duties were more complex. Aside from cleaning and housework, her role appeared to be more like a personal nurse. She was required to bathe him and help him to get dressed. Administer medications as and when appropriate. Arrange hospital and clinic appointments, and accompany him. Provide the stimulation and encouragement for rehabilitation exercises on a regular basis.

The contract agreement ended with the terms of her employment being terminated upon his death.

Thranduil tipped his head back and gazed up at the ceiling.

She hadn’t been his uncle’s sex toy at all – she had been his nurse and his carer, and more than likely, his companion. A pang of regret shot through him, but he pushed it away, clenching his teeth as he set the contract to one side and continued through the paperwork.

The binder contained detailed entries, and he settled back against the pillows to read them. Starting from the beginning of the year, each entry held a concise record of Ted’s prognosis. The decline in his mobility, a history of tachycardia, and the worsening CKD. The pulmonary infections that had seemed to plague the old man, and the pneumonia that had only been diagnosed just over a week ago.

A meticulously organised list of medication had been noted, along with dosages and times, and the date when the prescriptions would need to be renewed. A daily log of how often he’d managed to mobilise. A bowel movement log, and an input and output of fluids had been completed right up to the previous evening.

He closed the binder slowly, wondering how he could’ve been so far wrong in his initial observations. He was _never_ wrong, but on this occasion, it was clear that he had been.

A few minutes and a fresh coffee later, he was seated back at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with the paperwork. He sifted through piles of receipts from various companies, mostly sanitary and continence providers. A large folded envelope contained bank statements, and his brows came down in a frown as he studied the figures.

Ted hadn’t given her a raise in nine long years.

The amounts being paid into her account on a monthly basis had remained the same, with no added extras, no bonuses, nothing. Only a few hundred dollars had gone into the account on a regular basis, and his frown deepened as he sipped his coffee. That hadn’t been the amount agreed in the employment contract, and he decided that the old man must have been deducting rent of some sorts from her earnings.

Setting the cup back down, he sifted through the paperwork until he found her job application. She’d lived on the other side of the city, in a less-than-desirable area. Her qualifications and previous experience were outstanding, and it was clear that she’d studied hard in her line of work.

She had a list of enviable qualifications a mile long, each one dedicated to nursing and healthcare. His gaze wandered from the documents he held in his hand, his mind following.

She more than likely had nothing, as her account balance was dangerously low. And as she’d resided with Ted for the better part of a decade, she would have no home to return to.

Glancing back at the papers, he hunted for emergency contact details, riled that the thought even bothered him enough to look.

There was nothing.

Her next of kin had been left blank, and the section for her parents’ details had the word _deceased_ written. A hollow feeling descended on him, which irked him further. What she did from here on was none of his concern. He hadn’t even known she’d existed until less that twenty four hours ago, and her whereabouts or her future shouldn’t be of any interest to him. She’d have friends or something she could bunk in with until she sorted herself out.

It wasn’t his problem.

*****

Alisha sat in her car, gazing blindly through the glass.

Her entire world had come crashing down in less than twenty four hours, and she’d never felt so out of control in her life. Not only had she lost her employer and her job, but she’d been forced from her home on top of that.

Thranduil’s cold cruelty towards her shouldn’t have taken her by surprise, judging on how he’d reacted around Ted in the hours before the old man’s death. His heartless words and attitude had shocked her to the core, as his hatred and venom had come through with startling clarity. The fact that he intended to throw her out of her home within a small time frame shouldn’t have caught her on the back foot, but somehow it had. She’d honestly thought he would have given her a week’s notice or something along those lines, not three days.

She couldn’t sort anything out that quickly; she had practically no money to provide for herself. Ted’s advert for a live-in nursing carer had come at a crucial point in her life, and she’d accepted without hesitation. Unfortunately the pay hadn’t been great, and he’d deducted a substantial amount for rent, leaving her with a meagre sum at the end of each month.

By the time she’d paid her student loans and her credit cards, there had been very little left, and certainly not enough to build up any savings.

Her eyes moved to focus on a young family walking past the parked car; the father had his toddler up on his shoulders, and she was laughing hysterically as she gripped his hair. The mother held hands with two slightly older children, all of them appearing happy and jovial as they went about their day.

Sadness stabbed through her heart as she watched them disappear from her line of vision. Her future seemed so bleak at this point in time, but she knew that she wouldn’t achieve anything by sitting feeling sorry for herself.

The first thing she had to do was drive across town and purchase a blanket, and something to wear to the crematorium. Ted had no family that she was aware of, save the nephew who’d appeared out of the blue with a death wish against him, and she doubted any friends would attend. His visitors had been few and far between, most of them having passed away themselves as the years had tolled on.

Putting the car into gear, she reversed out of the parking spot she’d occupied for the last hour, and made her way through the traffic towards the shopping centre.

The parking lot was fairly busy by the time she arrived, but she found an empty spot and left her car there. Waking over the lot towards the complex, a shiny black Range Rover SUV caught her eye.

One very similar had sat outside Ted’s home the previous evening, obviously owned by the Neanderthal who’d taken residence. She frowned and shook her head as she passed; there were a thousand black SUVs within any given five mile radius. A steady flow of shoppers swarmed in and out of the complex as she entered, and she moved with the flow towards the store she had in mind.

Within ten minutes, she’d picked out a simple black blouse and a pair of black trousers, which would be suitable for attending Ted’s cremation. A soft blanket in a deep shade of purple was added to her purchases, and she went over to the desk to pay for them.

The cashier scanned the items and bagged them, giving her the total amount due. She presented her bank card and waited as it was inserted into the reader, before keying in her number.

Declined.

Shame and panic washed over her in a humiliating wave. She had to make a decision.

“Can I put the blanket back?” she asked, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

The cashier nodded, and removed it from the bag, setting it aside.

The amount that the clothing came to fell within her card balance, and the payment went through. She muttered her thanks as she took her purchases and left the store.

A pair of ice blue eyes watched her as she walked away.

She got back into her car, sighing as she dumped the bag on the passenger seat, shaking her head in silent defeat. Darkness was falling rapidly, and she’d have to find somewhere safe to park up for the night. The city wasn’t the safest place to sleep in a car, as gangs frequently ran wild after hours, so she decided to head out into the suburbs where it would be quieter.

The approaching night didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. Although ridiculously warm during the day, the temperature could plummet through the dark hours, and she knew she’d be frozen come the morning. Thankfully, she’d left a coat on the back seat a few weeks back, and it would come in handy for warmth as she tried to sleep in the small vehicle.

A small parking lot next to the lake seemed like her best choice, sheltered by trees that arched over the car as she pulled to a stop and switched the engine off. Hopefully she’d be able to rest through the night and find the strength to get through the service in the morning. She reached behind her and grabbed her coat, wrapping it around herself and turning sideways in the seat in an attempt to get comfortable. Her eyes closed, and she willed her mind to shut down enough for her to drift into unconsciousness.

A sharp rap on the window made her squeak in alarm.

She whipped back around in her seat, to see a dark figure standing beside the car. Fear shot through her, and she sat frozen, petrified.

The figure moved, a hand appearing in her line of vision holding a shopping bag.

She frowned, gingerly opening the door.

Thranduil.

The blood in her body chilled as she looked up into icy eyes, cold and hard even in the shadows of the darkness.

He held the bag towards her. “I believe you forgot something,” he said.

She swallowed. “I didn’t.”

His chest expanded as he inhaled, irritation buzzing to life within him. “Take it.”

“I don’t want it,” she said. “I didn’t pay for it.”

“No. I did,” he replied, shoving it insistently at her. “Take it.”

“No.”

His frustration was clear as he glared at her. “You intend to sleep out in your car?”

“What does it matter?” she snapped. “Go away. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he growled. “However, I was raised better than to leave a lone woman out in a cold car all night with nothing to keep her warm.”

“You were raised better than that, but not good enough to withhold from destroying an old man’s life as he died?” she retorted.

“There are things of which you are not aware,” he said, his voice low as he leaned down.

She instinctively pulled back further into the car.

“Things which I have no intention of sharing with you, or anyone else,” he continued. “You do not have the information needed to make an informed judgement, so do not attempt to. There was no love lost between him and I, and that is all you need to know. Now stop this stupidity and stay at the house overnight.”

She blinked hard and turned away from him. “I’m fine where I am,” she said.

“No you aren’t,” he contradicted. “You have no money. Nowhere warm and safe to spend the night. When was the last time you ate anything?”

“What do you care?” she demanded, turning back to glare up at him. “Go back to your life and leave me to mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed. “I’m not leaving you out here.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she shot back.

One eyebrow lifted. “You think?” he challenged. “Either you come back to the house, or I will drag you from the car and take you back. You may think I’m a monster or the devil reincarnate, but I’m not. Anything could happen to you out here, and I refuse to have that on my conscience. Make your choice, Alisha. Come back of your own free will, or I will take you back against it.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered, fear in her words.

He leaned both hands on the roof of the car, his eyes boring into hers. “Watch me,” he said softly. “You need somewhere to stay until you can sort yourself out.”

Taking a deep breath, she turned her head and stared out into the darkness, weighing up her options.

He knew the second she’d made her mind up. “I will follow you,” he said, pushing against the roof and standing upright.

She swallowed her nerves as she started the car, watching him walk back towards his own and climbing into the large vehicle.


	3. Chapter 3

** CHAPTER THREE **

****

Alisha took a deep breath as she stepped down off the bottom stair, her bare feet making no noise. Her heart leapt in her chest as Thranduil’s eyes lifted and his ice blue gaze fixed on hers for a few seconds, before lowering again. Squaring her shoulders, she went into the kitchen.

“Did you sleep well?” his deep voiced asked, making her jump slightly.

He noticed.

“Yes, thankyou,” she replied. She hesitated. “Can I make a coffee?”

His eyebrows came down in an angry scowl as he glared across at her. “What kind of a question is that?” he demanded.

“Well, I…I’m not employed here anymore, so I have no income to-“ she started.

“Make a fucking coffee,” he snapped, turning back to his laptop, which he seemed to be surgically attached to whenever he was indoors.

She set about her task, a slight tremor in her hands as she prepared the drink.

He noticed that too.

She made a point of ignoring him, taking her coffee back up to her room once it was ready, where she changed into the clothing she’d bought the day before. Brushing her hair and working it into a French braid, she put a simple pair of stud earrings in, and added a touch of eyeliner to her upper lids, followed by a coat of mascara. Finishing her coffee, she lifted a pair of black heels and carried them and her empty cup back downstairs.

Thranduil’s gaze met hers once more as she entered the kitchen, where she rinsed the cup and set it on the drainer. Feeling his eyes burning into her back, she crossed back through to the hall and outside, where she slid her feet into the shoes.

*****

“How did the funeral go?”

She looked up from packing study books into a box, startled at his sudden appearance. He stood in the doorway of her bedroom, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other.

“As well as can be expected,” she answered. “Short. Respectful. Peaceful.”

“That’s more than he deserved,” he muttered, glancing around the room. “Don’t put too much stress on yourself over moving out immediately,” he said, looking back at her. “The house won’t sell overnight, so you’ll have some time to sort something out.”

She clenched her jaw, inhaling through her nose as she placed some more books into the box. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than I need to,” she told him. “I have to build my life back up again, and staying here isn’t going to help me to achieve that.”

“Do you have another job lined up?” he questioned.

“Why do you care?”

“I didn’t say I did,” he replied smoothly. “I was simply asking a polite question.”

“I’ll find something,” she said, after a few moments’ silence. “I always do.”

“The reading of the will is at nine thirty in the attorney’s office in the city,” he said. “Are you going?”

“I have no need to,” she told him. “I’m not a benefactor. There’s no point in me being there.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, and disappeared.

Alisha closed her eyes as she paused in her task. She was tired, and stretched emotionally. If she had the money, a nice vacation somewhere quiet would have been ideal. But she didn’t.

The afternoon passed slowly, with her arranging and clearing out most of her things, dumping what she didn’t need or want in the trash. Thranduil remained elusive, but she did hear him barking into his cell phone at one point as she passed the kitchen. Deciding that she was better steering clear of him and his changeable moods, she continued with what she was doing.

It was late by the time she ventured back downstairs, to be met by darkened rooms and silence. He must’ve gone to bed. She wandered into the kitchen, where she spotted a note taped onto the refrigerator door.

_There’s a plate of food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Just heat it for three minutes in the microwave. Thranduil_

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she peeked inside the appliance. True enough, a plate covered by a plastic microwave cover sat on one of the shelves. Potatoes, green beans, carrots, peas, and a generous slice of steak pie was arranged on it.

“Wonders never cease,” she muttered, removing the meal and placing it in the microwave.

The following morning, the sound of the main door slamming echoed like thunder through the house, announcing the return of the tall blonde after the will reading.

He marched into the kitchen, coming to an abrupt halt as she turned with her coffee cup in her hand. After glaring at her for a few moments, he tossed his car keys carelessly onto the unit and shrugged out of his coat. It too went sailing through the air to land in a crumpled heap over one of the seats.

Her eyes followed it, before drifting back to him.

Fury blazed from every pore as he strode over to the window and leaned both hands on the worktop, gazing out. His shoulders were tense as he stood there, the tension radiating from him.

She padded quietly towards the door.

“It appears that you do not need to be in such a hurry to find other accommodation,” he said, breaking the silence. He pivoted round to glare at her. “The old bastard put a clause in his will that prevents me from offloading this hell-hole for twelve months.”

She frowned slightly. “Just a curious question…why are you so keen to get rid of it so fast?” she asked.

He huffed. “This place has too many bad memories,” he replied, his tone giving her a clear view of his frame of mind and his disgust at the situation. “The sooner it’s off my hands, the better. Maybe I _should_ do what I told him I’d do, and burn it to the ground.”

She gasped. “You can’t do that!”

Angry eyes clashed with hers. “And why not? It’s mine, and I can do whatever I please with it. Apart from sell the fucking pit.”

“Wow,” she said, amazed at his intense hatred of his uncle. “I don’t know what happened-“

“No, you do not,” he snapped, cutting her off. “And it doesn’t concern you. As a matter of fact-“ His cell phone started ringing, and he tutted as he broke off from what he was saying, fishing it out of his pocket. “Gandalf.” The word was weary.

“Thranduil,” the reply came. “I know that it might not be a good time-“

“It never is,” he shot back.

“-but you _need_ to make a decision,” he continued, ignoring the rude interruption. “The judge who is handling your case just did his classic trademark move in the case he finished just less than twenty minutes ago. And it did _not_ turn out in favour of the defender.”

Thranduil sighed as he leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling above him. “So what are my options?” he asked eventually.

“What I suggested just a few days past,” Gandalf replied. “If I could see another viable choice my friend, I would voice it. But I don’t. Not with this judge. He’s notorious.”

“Can he be paid off?”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “No. He’s wealthy beyond his means, and is not open to bribery or corruption.”

“It’s not bribery or corruption,” Thranduil argued, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he moved to refill the kettle. “It’s a case of doing the right thing.”

“In your favour, yes.”

“Not just my favour.”

“I understand that, but it’s not going to work like that. Make your decision Thranduil, and make it fast, or face losing the biggest and most important fight of your life.”

The line went dead, and he blinked at the phone in disbelief.

“Is everything alright?” Alisha sked hesitantly.

He looked over at her, having momentarily forgotten she was in the room. “No…yes, everything’s fine,” he replied. “Just some personal issues.”

“I’ll leave you to them then,” she said, and shifted through the doorway.

“Alisha.”

The single word stopped her in her tracks, and she glanced back at him.

He hesitated, seemingly considering what he was going to say. “I have to start sorting through the old man’s crap. You knew him better than anybody these last years…would you be willing to stay and go through it all with me? You’ll be paid for your time, and of course you can still live here until you get somewhere else, regardless of whether you accept or not.”

She couldn’t answer, stunned at his change in attitude.

An eyebrow lifted as he waited expectantly. “Well?”

“I…I…yes, why not?” she finally stuttered. “I don’t know what use you think I’ll be, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Good,” he said decidedly as he took a mug from the cupboard up on the wall. “When do you want to begin?”

She shrugged. “Whenever you’re ready to go through his things,” she answered.

“There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable,” he said. “Relax for today, and we’ll begin tomorrow.”

“Ok,” she agreed, her eyes wide as he swept past her with his coffee.

“And you can lose that stunned deer-caught-in-headlights look you have,” he said over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway. “If I do burn the house down, I’ll be sure to give you fair warning.”

She blinked.

*****

Thranduil stared at the painting hanging on the study wall. The scene depicted farmlands, which personally he thought was a bit drab and boring, but detailed nevertheless. The artist had seemed to put very little passion into the piece, and he felt that resonated from the finished product.

His hands lifted and gripped the large frame, lifting it easily and setting it down on the floor, revealing a small, square steel door.

He smirked to himself, shaking his head. So cliché. So overdone in the movies. And so predictable. He took a swig from the glass of wine that sat on the studded leather-topped desk, drawing the liquid through his teeth as he set it back down. A silver key lay beside it, and he narrowed his eyes at it as he picked it up, holding it level with his line of vision.

“What were you going to great lengths to hide, you old bastard?” he murmered, twisting the key in the air. This was a really good neighbourhood, and there was no valid reason to have anything locked in a steel vault hidden behind a painting.

Inserting the key in the lock, it turned with ease, indicating that it hadn’t been left as dormant as he’d originally thought. He swept his long hair over one shoulder as he pulled the door open, wondering what the hell he would find.

Tilting his head to one side with a curious frown, he reached in and took out a cloth bag. Confusion overtook his curiosity as the contents revealed themselves to be old style video cassettes.

“Never did move with the times,” he muttered, reaching for the wine glass again. He turned and swept his gaze around the study, looking for a VCR. It stood to reason that the old man must’ve had one stashed somewhere, else he wouldn’t have had a hoard of tapes hidden away.

He dumped the bag onto the desk and took his glass around the room as he opened doors and cabinets in his search. The hunt proved to be fruitless.

He leaned against a filing cabinet and drank his wine as his sharp eyes roamed the room. If he had something he wanted to hide, where would he put the equipment needed to view said item or items? Focusing on a large painting on the opposite wall from the hidden vault, he tutted and crossed the carpet towards it.

True enough, a larger steel door lay behind it. He guessed that the key that had opened the vault would open this one too, and he was proven correct in his assumption. The door swung open to reveal a large television screen and a video player. Too easy.

He lifted one of the tapes from the bag, scrutinising it. No label indicated what had been recorded on it, no tell-tell symbols or writing. By now his curiosity was at an all-time high, and he switched the power on to the tv and VCR. Slotting the cassette in, he leaned back against the desk and crossed one ankle over the other, one arm folded over his torso.

The footage rolled at first, then the lines across the top and bottom of the screen steadied and eventually faded, revealing an empty room. A few minutes passed with no activity.

He leaned forwards a little as Ted appeared, a much younger version of the man he’d seen die in front of him forty eight hours previously. Frowning, he watched as his uncle dragged a woman into the room behind him, slamming the door and locking it. He gasped as he punched her repeatedly, knocking her onto the floor with the force and speed of the blows, despite her cries.

His jaw dropped in horror as he watched Ted tear the woman’s clothes, pinning her to the floor as he straddled her. More punches, and more petrified screaming.

His stomach lurched as his uncle yanked his trousers down and began raping his victim, and he spun away from the screen, vomiting with projectile force.

*****

Alisha awoke with a start.

Something had crashed loudly somewhere in the house, dragging her from a deep, dreamless sleep. There it was again, followed by muffled roars of anger.

She flew out of bed in a panic and grabbed her robe, not bothering with anything for her feet. The thick carpet cushioned her steps as she thudded along the hall and down the staircase towards the noise which was growing louder as she approached. It seemed to be coming from Ted’s study.

Either Thranduil was going crazy, or someone had broken in.

The door lay slightly open, and she hesitantly stepped over to it, sneaking her head around. The sight before her made her gasp.

The furniture had been overturned, the expensive chair that sat behind the desk smashed beyond repair. Pictures had been torn from the walls, and cabinets lay upside down.

Her shocked gaze moved to the sole occupant of the room, to find him staring at her. He stood in the middle of the carnage, his hair messed, his eyes wide, his chest heaving with exertion as he panted, his shirt opened to halfway.

“What?” he demanded. “What the _fuck_ do you want?”

“I…I came to see what the noise was,” she stammered. “It woke me up, and I thought somebody had broken in or something…”

“And so you wander down to face potential burglars with nothing to protect yourself?” he spat, and she realised he was well on his way to being drunk.

Her eyes landed on the empty wine bottle which lay on its side on the floor, and another one sat on the window ledge. “Maybe you should get some rest,” she suggested softly.

He stepped towards her, and she instinctively backed off.

“Did you know?” he hissed angrily.

“Know what?”

He scoffed in disgust. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Know what?” she repeated. “Thranduil, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” he shouted, making her jump. “Every fucking thing is wrong! The bastard’s dead and can’t pay for what he’s done! Oh no, every goddamned thing in the world is just fucking peachy.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Maybe it’ll look a little different in the morning,” she said quietly.

He laughed humourlessly. “No. No, my innocent little nurse, it will _not_ look better in the morning. If anything, it’ll look a thousand times worse, because by then I’ll be completely sober and have to live with what happened.”

She stayed silent, her arms folded defensively around her middle.

“I’m just sorry the fucker was cremated,” he snarled. “Because I’d have dug him up and burned him myself.”

Her jaw dropped. “I can’t listen to this,” she said, shaking her head as she backed further away from him. “I’m seriously worried about you; how can you say such a thing about a frail old man?! What’s got into you?!”

He lurched towards her, gripping her upper arms in a tight grasp. “Stop making him out to be a saint,” he growled. “Because he most definitely wasn’t. You have him painted as some sort of damned hero or something. _Nothing_ could be further from the truth.”

She tried to shake free from his hold on her. “Stop it,” she cried. “He’s dead! Whatever happened between you, for crying out loud, let it go! You can’t change anything!”

“No, I can’t,” he agreed, his voice low with anger as he stared at her, mere inches from her. He was so close, she could see flecks of ice in the blue of his eyes. “And for that, he should be eternally grateful as he rots in hell!”

She blinked as she recoiled from the poison in his words. “Let me go,” she said, struggling to free herself. “I can’t help you sort through his things. I’m going to move my stuff in the morning. I can’t be around someone who acts like you do.”

“Can’t you?” he taunted, tightening his grip. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew his fingers would probably leave bruises on her arms, but he was past caring. “Can’t you? But you could spend almost ten years with that twisted old bastard?”

“Stop it!” she yelled. “Let me go! I wish I’d never had the misfortune of meeting you! You’re nothing but a beast! You’re determined to ruin the memories I have of someone I nursed and took care of for so long, but guess what? I won’t let you. You can’t change my memories of him.”

His eyes narrowed as she glared at him, her anger reaching through the fuzzy haze that the alcohol had woven around him.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said softly.

She finally shrugged his hands from her. “Ted looked after me,” she hissed at him. “He gave me a job, he gave me somewhere to live, and he paid me on time. That’s what I’ll remember, not some petty family argument you guys had a hundred years ago!”

Her head tipped up and her eyes widened as he pulled back to his full height, towering over her.

She was scared.

“A petty fight?” he repeated. His voice was dangerously quiet. “A _petty_ fight? Is that what you would call it?” He stepped closer to her. “A petty fight?” he roared.

She jumped back a step, but he grabbed her arm, dragging her into the wrecked study.

“Let me show you what _petty fight_ it was that destroyed my family!” he shouted, gripping her shoulders and forcing her around so her back was to him. “Look!”

Her mouth dropped open in silent horror as she stared at the image frozen on the screen of a television that she hadn’t even known  was there. A picture of her former employer was displayed, although a much younger version of the man she’d known. His face was twisted in a combination of sick fury and lust as he held some poor woman down in a vicious assault.

Thranduil released her and stepped around her, hitting the play button on the VCR. The picture resumed, the woman’s terrified and agonised screams filling the room along with Ted’s grunts as he violated her.

Alisha staggered backwards, unable to speak. She felt the distinctive feeling of nausea swell in her stomach and her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she gagged.

“That –“ he bellowed, pointing at the screen. “ _That is_ _my mother._ ”

Her eyes moved to his, seeing the intensity of his fury and his anguish for the first time with clarity. She jerked suddenly, pivoting away and losing the contents of her stomach.

She retched until there was nothing more to bring up, and sank to her knees on the carpet. The room was silent save the sound of Thranduil panting for breath, and she knew he’d stopped the tape. She wiped away the tears that streamed down her face, brought on by both the horror of what she’d seen and the force of her vomiting.

Swallowing, she tried to gather herself together.

Her body and her mind felt numb. She couldn’t process what she’d just seen; it didn’t make sense to her.

Slowly turning on her knees, she looked up at Thranduil, who visibly shook with anger. The screen behind him was black. He ground his teeth together, his fists bunched at his sides. His struggle to stay in control spoke volumes in the silence.

She watched as his knees gave way and he crumpled to the floor, his shoulders shaking as his head lowered, his long hair falling forwards and shielding his face. Following her instinct, she crawled across the carpet to him, and wrapped her arms around him as the floodgates crashed open and he broke. He leaned his head against her chest as she supported his weight, his anguished, heartbroken sobs filling the air.


	4. Chapter 4

** CHAPTER FOUR **

****

Alisha held Thranduil tightly against her as he broke his heart, his anguished cries slicing through her. No matter how offish he’d been and how cruel his words were, he didn’t deserve the agony of what he’d found hidden in the study.

_No_ son deserved to see his mother assaulted, especially not in such a horrific, degrading way.

His body shook and trembled as he cried, his breath coming in choked gasps and hiccups. She held one arm over his upper chest, holding his shoulder against her, her other hand cradling his head. She was struggling herself to process what she’d seen, and no doubt he was emotionally destroyed. It stood to reason that this had been where his hatred for his uncle had stemmed from; he’d obviously had at least some sort of an idea of what had happened in the past.

How long had he carried what he’d known on his shoulders? The footage looked to be years old, at the very least thirty years or maybe more. That would have made him somewhere around teenage years, if her rough estimate of his age was anything to work on.

He cried for what felt like an eternity in her arms, his hands gripping tightly on to her arm to anchor himself. He hadn’t intended to show her the tape, truth be told he hadn’t wanted anyone to see it. But she’d been so insistent that Ted had been some sort of Godly saint, and in his fragile emotional state, he’d been unable to bear it a second longer. As stubborn as she’d been in her refusal to believe that the old man had been rotten to the core, he’d had no other option but to prove his point.

His very valid point.

His cries slowly lessened, a painstakingly gradual process, and he ended up half lying on the floor with his head on her lap. Gentle hands stroked his hair, and softly murmered words of comfort reached his ears. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t think he’d be able to move, if he was being honest with himself. Knowing what his mother had gone through had been bad enough, but having seen the evidence with his own eyes had destroyed his will and broken his heart.

Alisha didn’t move. She stayed seated on the floor, trying in her own way to soothe the fragile, broken man who lay against her. The feeling had long gone from her legs, but she didn’t mind. His frame of mind was more important in comparison to numb legs. His weight felt solid against her, but she didn’t want to shatter the only thing that remotely resembled the peace that had finally seemed to settle over him.

After a long time, he slowly shifted, pushing himself into a sitting position, and turned away from her so that she was presented with his back. He sniffed and ran his hands through his hair, before resting his forearms on his drawn up knees.

A gentle hand touched his back. “Can I do anything?”

He shook his head as he lowered it. “No.”

Her hand remained where it was, and he became aware of her heat infusing itself into his cold body. His head was pounding, caused by both alcohol consumption and his breaking down into such a state.

“I’m going to make us both a coffee,” she said quietly after a few moments’ silence, and he felt her slowly shifting behind him. “Come on. Don’t stay in here.”

He lifted his head and looked up at her as she stood, her legs unsteady as she wobbled slightly. His gaze dropped to the hand she held down to him, and he hesitated before taking it and rising to his feet. She turned wordlessly and led him from the study and through the house.

“Sit,” she instructed him, and he complied in silence as she filled the kettle. His blurred eyes followed her movements as she took cups from the cupboard, spooned the sugar and the coffee into them, and replaced the containers.

She glanced at him, concerned with his inactivity and his compliance. “You’re in shock,” she said. “A sweet coffee will do you good.”

His eyebrows twitched marginally as he looked away. “I don’t know if anything will do me any good,” he whispered.

“I’m pretty shocked myself, and that can’t be anything compared to what you’re feeling,” she admitted. She made the coffee and carried the two cups over to the breakfast bar, sliding his towards him as she lowered herself onto the stool across from him. “How long have you known?”

He didn’t answer at first, and she thought he might not respond to her question.

“I found out when I was about twelve or thirteen,” he said finally, his gaze fixed on the beverage. “My mother hid it well for years, but eventually it got too much for her, and she had a nervous breakdown. It all came out, how he’d abused her for years and years, starting from when she was only in her early teens herself.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, genuinely meaning it. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t know he’d recorded what he did to her,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken, and she sensed that mentally he wasn’t even in the room with her. He was locked back in time as his memory trailed through the years. “There are eighteen tapes in there, each one of them like what you saw.”

Her eyes closed as she shook her head. “My God,” she whispered.

He lifted his eyes and looked into hers. “Now perhaps you can understand why I hated him so much.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

His gaze went back to the cup, which he slowly twisted around as he spoke. “The abuse lasted for years, right up until she fell pregnant with me,” he said softly.

She stilled. “Is…”

He shook his head. “No. Definitely not. The first thing my mother did when I was born was a blood test. I’m not his…thank God.”

Her head nodded in silent agreement.

“I noticed slight changes in her as I approached my teens,” he continued. “But there was a lot going on at the time; she and my father were having problems in their marriage. I was going through a rebellious stage trying to cross from childhood into adulthood. School was horrendous. My parents packed everything up and left England to move here.” He stopped. “Then he followed. The abuse picked up again.”

“I assume your father knew what had happened?” she asked.

“At some point, he found out, yes,” he answered. “But I don’t know when, or how. He never spoke of it. My mother was petrified it would never end, terrified of Ted, and we moved several times across different states, but each time he appeared. Eventually she killed herself, just before my twentieth birthday.”

“Oh Thranduil,” she whispered, reaching across and grasping his hand. “I’m so sorry. I really am.”

The seconds ticked past.

He eventually shrugged, taking a deep breath as he leaned back and broke the contact. “He wasn’t her blood brother. He was her step-brother. She once told me she’d tried to tell her own mother what had been going on, but my grandmother was besotted with her husband and didn’t want to rock the boat, as it were. Nothing was done – everything was swept under the carpet, never to be spoken about again.”

“Your poor mother,” she murmered. “I can’t imagine what she must have gone through.”

“I don’t need to imagine; I saw her fall apart piece by piece in front of me,” he said, a slight bitterness in his voice. “The mother I knew was dying before me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Maybe her death finally brought her the peace she’d been looking for all those years.”

“I hope that it did,” she said. “She must have gone through absolute hell.”

He swallowed. “She did. And she kept it hidden for as long as she could, which eventually destroyed her completely.” He lifted the cup and downed half of the contents. “I can’t stay in this house tonight,” he decided. “I’m going to book into a hotel. I can’t stay here.” He stood up, breathing hard as he tried to regain his equilibrium that had been completely knocked off balance by his discovery.

Alisha watched him, feeling that he was still in a state of shock and not thinking clearly. “Why don’t you lock up the study, or let me lock it up, and try to settle in the room you’ve been using?” she suggested. “It’s after midnight, and it’s a bit late to trek around looking for a hotel.”

He shook his head. “No. I need to get away from here to clear my head a little. I can’t think here, I can’t focus. I have to get out of here.”

Unsteady steps carried him towards the door, and he disappeared into the dark hallway. She sighed softly and drank her coffee, feeling slightly unnerved at remaining in the large empty house alone, particularly after what she’d learned.

Thranduil returned a few minutes later with a hold-all in his hand. “I…uh…do you want to come with me?” he asked hesitantly. “I don’t feel right leaving you here alone.”

“I should be ok,” she replied.

He turned to leave, then turned back again. “Come with me.” It came out as a plea rather than a command.

“Alright,” she agreed, and slid off the stool. “Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed.”

He nodded, stepping aside to allow her to pass him. Digging his cell phone from his pocket, he searched online for nearby hotels, finding only one with availability. Dialling through, he asked the clerk if he could book two rooms for the night.

The answer was no.

They only had one room left, which was furnished with two single beds.

He glanced up as Alisha headed down the staircase carrying a small bag. “Yes, that will do,” he said into the phone. He gave his name and number, and said he’d be there within half an hour, ending the call. “I could only find one hotel which had anything available,” he told her as she stepped off the bottom stair.

“That’s fine,” she replied with a shrug.

“Maybe not,” he said, scrolling through the phone before locking it. “They only have one room. But it has two beds,” he added hurriedly. “But it’s ok if you’re not comfortable with that…”

“It’ll be fine,” she said, even though a feeling of discomfort shot through her. He was still a stranger to her, even after what they’d come through together in recent hours. But she trusted her instinct, and that same instinct was telling her that he wouldn’t harm her or give her cause to feel uncomfortable. “To be completely honest, it’s not ideal, but after what I saw I don’t feel like staying here alone tonight either. I guess it’s the lesser of two evils.”

A small, wry smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I apologise,” he said, and hesitated. “For everything.”

Her eyes held his, and she knew he was referring to his attitude from his arrival, his blatant hostility, and his disregard for social protocol. But she now had the knowledge of why he’d been like that, and couldn’t find it in herself to fault him for the way he’d spoken to Ted or about him after his death. She understood completely why he’d borne so much hatred for her patient, and why he’d outright refused to respond to him with anything that resembled civility.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” she said softly. “I think that given what has transpired, particularly here tonight, that you had every reason to be the way you were these last couple of days. I can’t blame you for that.”

“Thankyou,” he whispered, his head low. “It doesn’t excuse my behaviour towards yourself, however.”

“I’m not even thinking about it,” she replied. “All I can think about right now is settling down somewhere comfortable, and trying to rid myself of the images in my head.”

He nodded. “We can take my car,” he said. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

“Yes. Just my pyjamas, some toiletries, and a change of clothing for the morning,” she told him, lifting the bag a little. “I’m afraid I don’t have much left in my account to-“

“Stop,” he interrupted, holding his hand up. “Forget it. You need to get out of this hell-hole as much as I do right now. And I don’t know how either of us would settle being completely isolated after this evening.”

“Are you ok to drive?” she asked, following him as he stepped past her and headed towards the main door.

He stopped just short of the door, considering her question. “Probably not,” he admitted, and handed her his car keys.

She took them, finding the metal warm from where he’d been holding them. He opened the door and ushered her out into the night, closing it firmly behind him.

*****

Turning her head and sweeping her gaze around the hotel room, Alisha absorbed her surroundings. The room had two beds, as he’d said, and appeared reasonably comfortable. Bedside lamps cast soft light onto the beds, already switched on by hotel staff before their arrival.

Thranduil closed and locked the door, hesitating as he turned into the room.

“Which bed would you prefer?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Either one,” she replied. “It makes no difference.”

He dropped his bag onto the one nearest the door, so she placed hers onto the other one, between his and the window. “Are you hungry?”

“No. I couldn’t eat, being truthful,” she said. “I actually feel quite sick.”

“I should have cleaned the floor in the study,” he murmered, his gaze distant. “It’ll smell terrible come the morning.”

“For heaven’s sake…the floor is the last thing you should be thinking of,” she chided gently. “That can wait. The most important thing is for you to get some rest and try to sort yourself out a wee bit. Forget the floor, the study, forget the house and everything connected to it for tonight. Deal with it another day.”

“Yes…there’s always another day,” he sighed, and sat himself down on the bed, his back to her.

She noticed the small kettle in the corner, set on a tray with cups and small packets of coffee and sugar. “How about a coffee?” she suggested.

He turned his head, giving her his profile. “I could manage that.”

She switched the kettle on and headed into the small adjoining bathroom to change into her pyjamas once she’d retrieved them from her bag. He looked round as she reappeared, and a slight frown creased his forehead.

“Laugh at them and you’ll be wearing your coffee,” she warned good-naturedly.

He pulled his lips in. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied.

Her pyjamas were white with pink paw prints dotted randomly, and she had to admit, they did seem a bit immature for a grown woman. “They’re my comfiest ones,” she said in defence. “And my favourites.”

He turned away again, but not before she saw the beginnings of a smile sneak out.

“Hey!” she warned, tossing a cushion at him that had been propped up against her pillows.

“What?” he laughed, ducking as it walloped off his broad shoulders. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” she said dryly, and set about making the coffee. “Here…take this before I throw it at you.”

He grinned as he took the cup she held out to him, and she had to admit to herself that it was a definite improvement.

“I wonder if there’s anything good on the tv at this time of night?” she thought aloud, settling under the quilt of her bed and lifting her cup. “It’s usually crap on through the night though.”

“I seldom watch television,” he said, and she glanced over at his tone.

He was back in the study, before the hidden television unit.

“Thranduil,” she said softly.

His eyes turned to her, and all she could see was pain.

“Stop it,” she said gently. “Leave it, for now anyway. Leave it closed up in the empty house. Walk away from it, even for just one night. It’s damaged you enough – don’t let it take you any further.”

He swallowed, staring down into the cup he held in both hands. “That’s easier said than done,” he whispered. Looking back up at her, he made a strenuous effort to gain control. “Tell me about yourself,” he said. “I met you under less than desirable circumstances, and I don’t know anything about you, other than paperwork I’ve found at the house.” He twisted round to face her, giving her his full attention.

“Well, I’m not a local product,” she began. “Although I suppose that’s pretty obvious from my accent.”

“Scottish,” he said, taking a drink.

She nodded. “Yes. I moved over here about twelve years ago, once I finished college.”

“What led you into your line of work?” he asked.

“Compassion, I guess,” she said. “I always found that helping old people could be both heart-breaking and soul destroying, but the reward lay in going home at the end of the day knowing I’d done everything I could for that person. Staying with someone as they die is probably one of the biggest things you can do for them, because they always know they’re not alone, even if they can’t let you know that they know.”

He stayed silent, his gaze on something on the faraway wall.

“Anyway, I came over here, did some courses at one of the colleges here, and took a job in a nursing facility for geriatric patients,” she went on. “But after about three years, it closed due to low resident levels. It was privately owned, so the owner closed it and sold the building once he stopped making any profit.”

“And you went to work for Ted,” he said.

She nodded. “He’d put an advert in a newspaper, and it was sheer luck I saw it. I applied, and came through to meet with him, and he offered me the job there and then after he’d gone through my credentials. It fixed a lot of problems, as I had nowhere to live at the time either; I’d been renting a room in the nursing facility. So when it closed, I lost my job and where I lived as well.”

He looked back at her, his ice blue eyes holding her prisoner as his gaze hardened. “Did he ever say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing. Not a single thing,” she answered truthfully. “That’s why what you showed me tonight has totally knocked me off my feet. It’s the last thing I’d have expected from someone like him. He was always such a gentleman with me. I never once heard him say anything that would ring any alarm bells. He never put a foot out of place, and he was always really polite. A stereotypical old gentleman.”

He blinked and shifted his gaze again. “Sometimes the still waters run the deepest,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry for how I acted towards you when you first arrived,” she said. “I just couldn’t understand why you were acting the way you did.”

“It isn’t something I would choose to publicise,” he replied. “And I shouldn’t have showed you that tape. I shouldn’t have. I just couldn’t take it anymore, how defensive you were of him. It was killing me inside, knowing what I know, and having to listen to you jump to his defence constantly.”

“If I’d had _any_ idea about what he’d done, I’d have been out of there like a bat out of hell,” she said. “But I honestly didn’t know. He never said or did anything to make me think anything other than him being a frail, lonely, little old man, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he assured her, looking back at her. “One thing he was a master of was pulling the wool over peoples’ eyes. He was plausible; too plausible. Nobody could have guessed that underneath it all he was a twisted freak with a perversion to degradation and pain towards his sister.”

“I’m just sorry that she couldn’t cope with what he did to her,” she said, sipping her coffee. “If only there was some way that she could’ve reached out, maybe had some counselling or something. It might’ve helped, even just a tiny bit.”

“Healthcare wasn’t what it is now, not back in those days,” he said, twisting his cup in his hands.

“Have you thought about counselling?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t make any difference.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she said.

“I can’t change what happened, and I can’t dig the son-of-a-bitch up to set fire to him,” he reasoned. “And it didn’t happen to me, it happened to my mother. I can’t help her.”

“It had a knock-on effect on you as well though,” she told him. “And maybe you’ve unconsciously turned away from that and ignored it all this time. You’re doing it now.”

He frowned. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” she corrected him. “You chose the bed nearest the door. That shows that you need to be able to run if the need arises. It’s a way of coping with what happened – you have to feel unrestricted. If you wake up in a panic or something, deep inside your mind, you need to know that you can get out.”

His blue eyes lowered as a faint pink tinge appeared on his cheeks.

“Don’t read too much into it, Thranduil,” she said softly. “I did psychology, that’s why I can see what you’ve done in choosing that bed. No other reason. You’re not under a microscope, and I’m not analysing you. I couldn’t anyway – I only did two years of psychology study. I’m telling you what I can see because I think that deep down you really do need someone to help you deal with this, whether it’s to face up to it head-on, or accept it and lock it away – either way, I don’t think you can do it alone.”

His jaw clenched. “I’ve always been a strong person,” he ground out, his head down a little. “Until tonight. I’ve never broken down like that in front of anyone, ever.”

“And you think that makes you less of a person, less of a man?” she asked. “It doesn’t. It makes you human. It makes you a human being trying to cope with having to see exactly what Ted did to your mother, and what the domino effect was.”

He didn’t answer.

She emptied her cup and set it down on the small unit that separated the two beds, then scrambled further under the quilt. “I think you should try to get some rest, even if you don’t fall asleep,” she suggested quietly. “It’s been a tough few days, particularly tonight. Stop punishing yourself and get some rest.”

He nodded slowly, setting his cup down next to hers and standing to lift his hold-all. He walked around the beds and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later dressed in dark blue pyjama bottoms.

Alisha swallowed and turned her eyes away at the sight of his bare chest, the outline of his muscles defined in the shadows cast from the lamps.

He climbed into his bed, switching off both lights, and the room settled into a silent darkness.

Eventually he spoke.

“Thankyou, Alisha,” he whispered.

“I don’t know what for,” she said, muffled into her pillow. “But you’re welcome.”


	5. Chapter 5

** CHAPTER FIVE **

****

An acrid stench filled Alisha’s nose, which she wrinkled in disgust. What the hell was it, and where was it coming from?

She rose from her cross-legged position on the lounge floor where she was halfway through sorting old receipts belonging to Ted, and padded through the house in her bare feet. Her sense of smell guided her towards the large conservatory at the rear of the house, where she could see Thranduil’s light blonde hair through the glass. Opening the door, she stepped out onto the warm tiles.

He turned, hearing the door opening.

A bonfire blazed a few feet away from him, and he was in the midst of tossing the video tapes into it.

She slowly nodded in understanding, and he turned his back to her again to resume his task.

Saying nothing, she went back inside and began preparing lunch. Some scrambled eggs and toast seemed quite appetising to her, not having eaten anything since before bed the previous night, before Thranduil’s discovery and subsequent outburst. Preparing a healthy sized batch of the eggs, she slid the bread onto the grill pan and boiled the kettle for coffee. She moved efficiently around in the kitchen, having been accustomed to preparing food there for years.

The food was being served onto two plates as she heard Thranduil approach.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “Perfect timing. I don’t have to come and yell for you.”

He stopped, his eyes on the lunch she had made. “I’m not sure I could eat anything,” he said.

She turned to face him, one hand on her hip. “Try,” she ordered him. “If you fade away to nothing, then he’s won. Don’t let him have that over you, Thranduil. Just don’t.”

He hesitated before moving to wash his hands and seating himself at the breakfast bar.

“Even if you only manage a mouthful or two, it’s better than nothing,” she told him as she slid the plate in front of him, followed by the coffee.

He glared at her. “Are you this bossy with your patients?” he demanded, but she could see the faintest trace of humour in his eyes and hear it in his voice if she listened hard enough.

“When they don’t know what’s good for them, yes,” she retorted. “Do you feel any better now after doing that outside?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “A little,” he admitted. “Not much, but a little bit. I think that burning the tapes was the best thing for me to do. I don’t ever want to have to see anything like that again, and I don’t like the idea of knowing they’re still around somewhere.”

“I think you did the right thing,” she said as she sat across from him and lifted a slice of toast from her plate. “It’s maybe a step in the right direction towards some sort of closure for you.”

Eyeing her thoughtfully, he took a bite of his toast. “Do you think I’ll ever get closure?”

“Truthfully? That depends on you,” she answered. “But remember, it’s one hell of a thing to try and get complete and total closure from. As long as you can get partway there through time, then that counts as something.”

“I have been years trying to work through what I know,” he said.

“Granted. But now you’ve faced the worst of it, in the study last night. And he’s dead. You watched him die,” she remarked. “That’s a major hurdle over and done with.”

“I don’t really take pleasure in watching people die,” he told her. “In fact, that was the first time I’ve ever seen someone die. But it was something I had to do, for my own peace of mind…or something.”

She nodded.

“For what it’s worth, I’m not a beast. Honestly.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” she replied. “I suppose that with knowledge, comes understanding.”

Haunted eyes gazed at something over her shoulder, and she knew that in his head, he was watching the footage again.

“Stop it,” she said, drawing his eyes back to her. “You’ve done the worst, and you’ll never have to see it again. Now hit the delete button in your mind, and keep hitting it over and over and over again, until you win this. You’ve got the strength to do it.”

He sighed heavily, studying his plate. “I’m thinking that maybe I should go back home, and get a clearance company to come in and go through all his things,” he said.

She chewed. “You could,” she agreed. “Or you could lay those demons to rest once and for all.”

“It’s a huge task.”

“So? I can help, if you want,” she said. “I checked the job situation this morning when we came back. It’s pretty dire for nursing care right now, so I might have more time on my hands than I originally thought.”

“Well there’s no hurry for you to move out,” he told her. “After last night, it’s the least I can do to ensure you have somewhere to stay.”

“Thankyou,” she replied. “But to be honest, this really isn’t a healthy place to be. Everything I thought I knew about Ted was all lies, and it’s eating away at me. I think I only dozed for maybe an hour last night; I couldn’t clear my head enough to get a decent sleep.”

“That was my fault. I’m sorry,” he said. “My actions were wrong last night.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “Harsh though they were, at least now I know where you’re coming from with all your anger and hatred for him. It’s just the thought that I looked after him for all those years and that was his history. It makes me feel sick.”

“Nobody knew what a sick, twisted pervert he really was,” he said. He’d abandoned eating and was pushing his toast around the plate with one finger. “I think everyone thought he was just a quiet-living, shy old man, not the sexually-depraved monster he actually was.”

She watched him play with his toast, noting that at least he’d had one slice. The nurse in her never strayed too far when it came to dealing with other people. “What are your plans?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I have to go home soon,” he answered. “I have things to take care of, things which I cannot delay for much longer.” The recent phone conversations with Gandalf niggled at the back of his mind. “But there are things here that I need to do also.”

“So prioritise. Take care of the more urgent things first, then you can do the less-urgent ones,” she said, frowning as her cell phone pinged. Taking it out of her pocket, her frown deepened as she scrolled through the message.

“Bad news?” he asked.

“Not the best,” she muttered, and looked up at him as she set it aside. “There’s no vacancies in a three hundred mile radius for nursing care. But the employment agency has sent me the information on an ad for warehouse staff in a supermarket about four, maybe five miles away.”

“Warehouse?” he echoed. “That’s a bit below your pay grade, surely?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said. “I might take it temporarily, just until something else comes along. Who knows – it might only be for a short time.”

He reached over and spun her phone around, scanning the details on the screen. He let out a grunt as he pushed it back towards her. “Look at the size of those roll cages,” he told her.

She tilted her head to look. “And?”

“I would struggle to move those, and I am a lot taller and stronger than you,” he said. “You aren’t right for this kind of work. You have a brain, not brawn.”

Her arms folded across her chest as she glared at him. “Do you see any _other_ options?” she demanded, annoyed. “And I’ll have you know I’m not lazy – I could do this shit. Maybe not as easily as you could, but I could do it.”

“Actually…I do,” he said thoughtfully, staring at her without really seeing her. “I have an employment vacancy which I’m against time to fill, and it’s one of the more urgent priorities which I have to go home for.”

“Tell me more,” she said, unfolding her arms and leaning her elbows on the bar.

“It is an inclusive employment, with a guaranteed ten-year contract. There are no get-out clauses. The option of renewing for a further five years presents itself after the initial ten years. It pays extremely well, and provides accommodation and a car.”

She narrowed her eyes as she held his gaze. “I’m curious,” she said.

“There are _no_ get-out clauses,” he repeated. “Under _any_ circumstances.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “So…what would I have to do?”

“Be my wife.”

*****

“You are kidding me.” Her statement broke a silence that had seemed to last forever.

He shook his head. “No.”

A shocked laugh erupted from her, and she sat back on the stool. “You’ve gone completely crazy,” she said.

“Unfortunately not,” he sighed, taking his own phone out of his pocket. Flipping through the screens, he located what he was looking for, and slid it towards her. “This is Legolas.”

The image of the most gorgeous young boy met her stunned gaze. Light blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes completely dazzled her.

“My son.”

Shocked eyes lifted to meet his.

“His mother…let me just say it was a one-off thing, an error of judgement. A mistake. That little boy however, was not. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said.

She looked back at the picture. He was Thranduil’s double.

“His mother didn’t want him, and dumped him on me as soon as she birthed him,” he continued. “I went through the legal channels and she happily signed her rights away, in exchange for a healthy sum of money.”

“My God,” she murmered, still staring at the picture.

“I discovered a few months ago that she had died,” he said. “A drugs overdose. Now some distant cousin of hers is suing me for custody of Legolas.”

She gazed at him across the breakfast bar, not knowing what to say. This man had enough problems for a small country, yet never showed the weight of the burdens he carried.

“She has never met him, never corresponded with him or anything. But she wants him, and obviously the child support she would receive,” he told her.

“Money always seems to make the world go round,” she said sadly. “So why do you need a wife?”

He sighed. “The judge taking the case is an old-fashioned fossil; he’s never moved with the times. Every custody case he tries, he awards in favour of whoever is married, irregardless of what is best for the child or children concerned. It matters not whether the pursuing parent is close to the child, or has had much to do with their upbringing – if they are married, he awards them full custody.”

“That’s a pretty shit way to look at it,” she said with a frown. “Maybe _he’s_ in the wrong line of work.”

“The calls that have been coming – they’re from Gandalf, my attorney,” he said. “We have a date for the initial hearing, and he’s pushing me hard to find someone so that it goes in my favour. Up until now, I didn’t know of anyone who would be suitable.”

She lifted one eyebrow. “And now you think you do?” she challenged.

He shrugged. “You would have your own space, your own life, and all that I would expect would be commitment to the contract,” he replied. “You would be able to come and go as you please, and you would have your own income and accounts. The only stipulations are that you cannot break the contract within the ten years, and you cannot have affairs that would bring the marriage into question. The courts would be watching closely to ensure that it was not an arranged marriage fabricated solely to dupe them.”

“Which it obviously would be,” she stated.

“Obviously,” he agreed. “Once the ten years are over, the option is there to renew for a further five years, after which, Legolas will be of an age where he can decide for himself if he chooses to live with this distant cousin or remain with me.”

She poked her tongue in the side of her cheek, contemplating what he’d said.

He sat quietly across from her, watching her thoughts flash across her eyes.

“I think there’s more to it than you’re telling me,” she said eventually. “There has to be.”

“Like what?” he asked. “I have told you everything. My attorney can verify what I have said. He would draw up the legal paperwork, which we would both sign before witnesses, and they would be retained by him until such time arrives for us to either extend the contract, or divorce and go our separate ways.”

“You could go to a club and pick someone up who would jump at the chance to do this,” she said.

“Perhaps that is not my way of life, going into clubs and picking up women,” he retorted, insulted that she’d insinuated it was.  “I made a careless mistake of judgement with my son’s mother, and it is not one I am likely to repeat.”

She twisted on the stool, facing him sideways as she ran her hands through her long hair. “Wow,” she muttered.

He went back to pushing his uneaten lunch around. “Take some time, think it over,” he advised.

She looked round at him. “I must be mad to even consider it,” she said.

“Your salary would be five thousand dollars a month,” he said. “If you needed more for any reason, you would have access to my personal account.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “ _What?!”_

He nodded. “Yes. Plus a car of your choosing. And your own life to do with as you please, whether it be studying, going back to work when you find the right placement, or merely being a kept wife. The choice would be yours.”

She started to laugh. “This is fucking crazy,” she said. “Absolutely off the surface of Pluto. Are you _insane?!”_

He leaned his elbows on the bar, his eyes angry. “My son means more to me than anything in this world,” he said, his temper evident in his tone. “I will do whatever it takes to keep him. _Whatever_ it takes. I love him more than life itself, and I will not be parted from him.” He leaned back. “Unfortunately any woman I have even vaguely considered has not inspired me to make the employment offer. I was beginning to think that I would never find the right person for the job, and would have to take my chances against the judge.”

She inhaled deeply, turning away from him again. “So what makes you think I’d be suitable?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You need a job, an income, somewhere to live,” he said. “I can provide that. I need someone stable who would adhere to the conditions of employment. You have spent years and years caring for people, which puts you at an advantage over any others. My son is almost two years old, and a very sociable child. He likes to interact with people, and I feel that you would get on very well with him.”

“I can’t…I can’t give you a solid yes or no right now,” she said. “I need time to think about it.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Granted. I would not expect an immediate answer. It is a big commitment, and not one to be taken lightly. As I said, I would not be open to affairs which would bring the marriage into question. Therefore you would essentially be putting your life on hold for the next decade, at least.”

She didn’t respond.

What life?

“I have to get back to what I was doing,” he said, rising from the stool. “I will leave you in peace.”

Her eyes followed him as he left the kitchen, making his way towards the study. His long blonde hair swished around his waist as he walked away, and she briefly wondered why he didn’t have a steady stream of females just jumping at the chance to take up the offer. It would be a crime and an outright lie to say that he wasn’t good-looking; the guy was devastatingly gorgeous. Even though she’d initially considered him to be a completely evil bastard, his true inner self had shone through over the last eighteen hours, proving her to be wrong.

But ten years was a long time to totally and whole-heartedly commit to something, with no means of escape if need be. What would she do if she met someone and fell in love? He’d specifically stated no affairs, so she would have to remain “faithful” as it were, to him.

On the other hand, there were no other prospects for her to look forward to. She was desperate to get out of Ted’s house, almost crazy with determination to rid herself of the memories of the atrocious things he’d done in the past and kept hidden. With nowhere to go and only a warehouse job on the horizon, perhaps Thranduil’s offer was something she should spend some time thinking over.

And five grand a month was a preposterous amount. How he could ever afford that, she had no idea. But then again, she didn’t know much about him at all. She didn’t know what he did for a living, and Ted had never breathed a word concerning him in the nine years she’d worked for him.

She drew small circles on the worktop with her index finger, her thoughts a random, jumbled mess.

*****

It was a quiet, sombre Alisha that Thranduil found sitting outside under the trees later on that evening. She’d disappeared after their conversation over lunch, presumably to her room, and he hadn’t seen or heard anything from her since.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his joggers, his bare feet silent in the grass as he approached her.

“May I?” he asked, as her head turned.

“Of course,” she said. “Why would you ask?”

He withdrew his hands, lowering himself to sit cross-legged a small distance away from her. “I did not wish to intrude on your solitude,” he answered.

She smiled. “I was just thinking,” she said.

“Anything I can help with?”

“It occurred to me that I know nothing about you,” she said. “I know about your mother, and I know you have a son. But I don’t know anything about _you._ ”

“What do you wish to know?” He plucked a few blades of grass and toyed with them.

“Everything,” she answered, glancing at him. “I think it’s important to help me make my decision.”

“Then maybe I should start at the beginning. I was born in London, and moved over here as you know,” he said. “I graduated from high school here and went on to university, where I studied architecture and design. I studied business management at evening classes in the local college in between juggling my Masters in architecture and a part-time job in a construction company. Once I finished university, I went into partnership with an old friend, Elrond Rivendell. We built up a design and construction company, specialising in office blocks and shopping complexes. Elrond does the architecture, and I take care of the construction side.”

She tilted her head as she listened.

“The company has done exceptionally well for itself, and we’ve expanded considerably through the years,” he continued. “Then I met my son’s mother at a charity get-up, and one thing led to another. Too much alcohol, too many raging hormones, and too little inhibition. Legolas was the result. Since then, I’ve organised my life around my child and my company, and interact very little outside those. My lifestyle doesn’t allow me much free time.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I will be forty on my next birthday,” he replied, and her eyes widened, making him laugh. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

“I didn’t think you were as old as that,” she admitted.

“How old are you?”

She grinned. “Thirty last month,” she told him.

“I had guessed you were somewhere around that age,” he said. “So you were only twenty one when you came to work here?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, staring off into the distance. “I’m seldom wrong about people, but in this case I couldn’t have been further from the truth.”

“You saw what he wanted you to see,” he replied, after a short silence. “You can’t blame yourself for that. He had built up a very convincing façade, and I sincerely doubt anyone saw through it. Nobody would have any reason to try to, unless they already knew of his sordid past and the secrets he hid.”

“So, no other children, or meaningful relationships, anything like that?” she asked.

He shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement. “No. My son and my work take up every minute I have. The incident with his mother was the only careless lapse I had, but when I look at my child…I cannot describe the love I have for him, and how lucky I am that he was born.”

She smiled. “Children are amazing,” she said.

“I assume you don’t have any of your own?”

“No,” she said, taking a deep breath. “And the chances of me having any are really slim – I have endometriosis, quite bad. The consultant doesn’t think I’d be able to sustain a pregnancy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be,” she said with a forced cheerfulness. “Life hands you a deck of cards, and you have to play them how you see fit. That was the hand I was dealt, so I have to work with it. I stopped working against it a long time ago.”

“It must be difficult though, having the choice taken away from you,” he murmered, his gaze far away. “Legolas is my life…I can’t imagine him not being around.” He looked back at her. “I’m sorry – I didn’t realise your situation.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Shit happens. So, does he have cousins, anything like that?”

“I’m an only child,” he told her. “My father passed away last year, but he took very little to do with his grandson. Relations between he and I were strained after my mother died. We never really healed after it, and seemed to drift into separate lives.”

She placed her hands on the grass behind her, leaning her weight back on them. “You haven’t had a smooth ride through life,” she said softly.

“Has anybody?” he asked by way of reply.

She abruptly sat forwards again. “I want to meet your son,” she said.

He held her gaze, and she could see the cogs turning behind the eyes that were almost hidden in the semi-darkness. “That can be arranged,” he said eventually. “We could leave this place as it is for a time and go to my home. This can be dealt with at any point; it isn’t urgent.”

“But your situation is,” she finished for him. “Yes…I’d like to meet him.”

He nodded. “Then so it will be.”


	6. Chapter 6

** CHAPTER SIX **

****

Early the next morning, Alisha found herself in the passenger seat of Thranduil’s ridiculously comfortable SUV, whizzing along the freeway with the driver’s window partially lowered. Relaxing music drifted into the car, settling her nerves. The vehicle itself was luxury on wheels; everything in the interior was soft leather and gleamed spotlessly. The dashboard reminded her of the cockpit of a space shuttle, all dials, lights and buttons.

She felt that somehow, in a weird sort of way, the car suited him.

They’d stopped for a coffee and a light snack halfway through the drive, giving both of them chance to get out and stretch their legs for a short time. He’d explained that it was a two-hour drive, barring any hold-ups or lane closures, and it would be beneficial to stop around the halfway mark, more so for her so she could use the bathroom if she needed.

They set off again after their short break, and she spent most of the time gazing out of the window rather than reading the book she’d packed. The passing scenery had caught her attention more than the text that seemed to blur before her tired eyes.

Not being able to settle the night before, she’d stayed awake flipping through tv channels, before eventually getting up and packing a small suitcase. She hadn’t packed much, just a few changes of clothes, some makeup and toiletries, and a couple of books to keep her occupied.

Thranduil hadn’t spoken a lot during their journey, and she had the feeling his mind was still back at the house they’d left behind. It stood to reason – a lot had happened there, discoveries made that were never supposed to be unearthed.

“We are not far away now,” he commented, breaking into her thoughts. “Probably fifteen minutes or so to go, then we’ll be there.”

She smiled. “I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.

“Elrond, my business partner, and Gandalf, my attorney will be there,” he told her. “Elrond has been looking after Legolas for me these last few days. And Gandalf wants to meet with me. No doubt he’s curious about you as well.”

“You must have missed the wee one,” she said.

“Yes. I‘ve felt like part of me has been missing,” he replied, changing gears. “But I would never take him to that house.”

“No…I can see why,” she agreed. “Even with the history aside, it wouldn’t have been right to take him to something like that.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “He needs to be surrounded by happiness, fun, and love. Not lies, deceit, and death. That’s not good for any child. They pick up on things, they absorb the atmosphere around them. They know things.”

“I’ve read that they’re extremely perceptive,” she stated, glancing at him as he drove. “As are animals.”

“Are you an animal person?” he asked.

She grinned. “Yes. All animals, but I particularly adore cats.” She pulled up the sleeve of her blue blouse, revealing a paw print tattoo on her right wrist.

He glanced over briefly, smiling as he turned back to the road. “Who or what was that for?”

“A cat I had years ago,” she replied. “Odyssey. He was a huge thing, pure black in colour. A really affectionate big boy.”

“It may please you to know that I have two cats,” he said.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?! I never pegged you as a cat person!” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice, and his smile turned to a grin.

“Gondor and Rohan,” he told her. “Two brothers. Really adorable creatures, but as mischievous as hell. Always getting into places where they shouldn’t be, causing chaos and destruction everywhere they go. But I love them.”

She was a little stunned at this show of affection towards something other than his child. “Cats are special,” she said.

A comfortable silence settled in the car as they proceeded onwards, finally arriving at the wrought-iron gates of a spacious property. Thranduil used a remote control to open them, and they slowly drove through as they parted noiselessly. Alisha stared in wonder as the car swept along a long, curved driveway, lush green grass and trees on either side. A large house loomed into view, and her mouth dropped open in wonder.

“My home,” he said, stopping the car and switching the engine off.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, staring up at the roses that grew up a tall trellis at the side of the front door. The impressive property had an air of wealth and influence, but seemed to emit a homely aura at the same time. She slid out of the car, her feet hitting the ground with a soft thud, her gaze fixed on the house.

The front door had a massive stained glass panel, depicting a forest scene. She couldn’t take her eyes off it as she ascended the steps at Thranduil’s side.

He smiled to himself, sensing her wonder. “I had this panel made specifically to my own design,” he told her as he opened the door and ushered her inside. “The artist has done several pieces for me, and is an expert in his craft.”

“It’s stunning,” she said. “I imagine the sun shining through it looks just amazing.”

“If you like that, wait until you see the library windows,” he replied.

“You have a library?”

“Yes.”

They walked along a polished floor, her sneakers making a soft squeaking noise with each step. A tall figure with long dark brown hair appeared out of one of the doorways at the far end with a small child in his arms.

“Daddy!”

Thranduil’s entire demeanour changed. He released his grip on his hold-all, lowering himself to his knees as the little boy was set down onto the floor, holding his arms out. The youngster charged the length of the hallway, crashing into his father’s arms with a series of squeaks and squeals. He rose up to stand again, both arms hugging him tightly as he turned round and round with him.

“Legolas, my boy,” he laughed, the child tugging excitedly on his long hair and giggling with delight. “I missed you so much!”

“Miss daddy,” he replied. A huge smile dimpled his little round cheeks.

Alisha’s heart melted at the sight. The love between father and son was blatantly clear.

The figure stepped forwards. “Thranduil, good to see you,” he said, patting his arm. “And you must be Alisha. I am Elrond. It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, turning to her and extending his hand.

She took it in a handshake. “Likewise,” she replied with a smile. “Thranduil tells me you’ve been babysitter for the last couple of days?”

He grinned. “This little man has me completely wrapped around his fingers,” he admitted. “And he knows it. He runs me ragged!”

She laughed. “He’s so cute.”

Thranduil couldn’t take his eyes off his son, who likewise couldn’t tear his gaze away from his father. Insistent little hands touched his face, traced the wide smile on his mouth, and pulled on his hair as he babbled excitedly.

Alisha was entranced by the close interaction.

“This is Elrond, my close friend and business partner,” the tall blonde eventually said, turning and giving them both his attention. “He and I have known one another for too many years to count, and our company wouldn’t be what it is without his input.”

Elrond laughed. “It takes two to build a company like ours,” he said. “You must be tired after your drive. Can I make you both something to eat?”

Thranduil didn’t reply, leaving her to answer.

“I’m actually ok,” she said. “But I’d kill for a coffee, if that’s alright.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Elrond replied. “Come and I’ll show you the kitchen; we’ll leave these two to catch up.”

She grinned as she slid her arm through the one he offered, warming to him instantly. There was something about his casual, friendly, easy-going manner that appealed to her, and she knew deep down that he and Thranduil were a solid team when it came to looking out for one another.

He led her further along the hall and into the room he’d appeared from, where she halted.

The kitchen was huge.

A tiled black and white floor greeted her, and three walls were lined with gleaming white units, both at floor level and mounted on the walls. A large refrigerator, a chest freezer, and a dishwasher blended in comfortably. Placed in the middle of the room was a large dining table, big enough for eight settings. A vase with blue and yellow blooms sat in the centre.

The fourth wall was not a wall, but sliding glass doors that opened out onto a decked area, where a variety of comfortable garden furniture was arranged.

“Alisha?” Elrond asked.

She shook her head in amazement. “Wow,” she laughed. “This is bigger than the room I used to rent when I graduated from college.”

He smiled. “Yes. Thranduil doesn’t do things by halves. You will realise that about him soon enough; he’s an all-or-nothing person. Have a seat. I’ll make you a coffee.”

She complied, lowering herself onto one of the seats around the dining table.

“Is everything settled back at the house?” he asked, looking over her head to Thranduil.

He walked into the kitchen with Legolas balanced on one hip, chewing on his hair. “No. I decided to walk away from it for a while,” he replied. “I needed time away; there’s too much for me to absorb right now. Besides, the situation here is much more important.”

“I agree,” the brunette replied as he spooned coffee into three mugs. “I assume the next few days will provide you with an answer?”

Alisha met Thranduil’s eyes.

“Elrond knows of the situation I am faced with,” he told her. “He and Gandalf are the only ones, and it’s vital that it remains that way. One slip the wrong way could take my son away from me.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

He turned back to his friend. “We will see what happens,” he told him. “Nothing is solid at the moment. I chose to bring Alisha here so that she could meet Legolas and spend a few days, perhaps think it over. Time will tell. Do not pressure her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Elrond exclaimed. “I’m just anxious to see this matter resolved, that’s all. I wouldn’t pressure anyone into doing what is a ridiculous move in order to keep your child. The judge should have been retired from the bench a long time ago.”

“I think his views are well out-dated,” she commented, toying with a coaster. “But if that’s the judge assigned to the case, there’s not much you can do about it.”

“Unfortunately, that is true,” Thranduil agreed. “Legolas, don’t eat my hair,” he said to his son, giving him a grape instead. The tiny blonde immediately crammed it into his mouth. “Is Gandalf here yet?”

“No. He called about half an hour ago, said he was held up in a meeting but that he’ll be here just after lunch,” Elrond replied as he placed the three cups onto the table. “He mentioned he’s quite looking forward to meeting you, my dear.”

Alisha smiled. “This is going to be an interesting few days,” she said.

“Gandalf can be a bit gruff sometimes, but don’t let him annoy you,” he told her. “He means well, and he’s stressing over the court case and the possible outcome.”

“That’s what I pay him for,” Thranduil said dryly as he tickled the squirming bundle hanging on to him. He sat on one of the seats, settling the child onto his lap, who for the first time, noticed Alisha.

“Ooo,” he murmered, his blue eyes widening. “Ooo.”

She laughed. “Hi there, little man,” she said.

He blinked slowly, then smiled. “Hi,” he said shyly, before giggling and diving up to bury his face in against Thranduil’s neck.

He smiled at her as he rubbed his son’s back. “That’s a good start,” he said. “He usually takes a while to warm up to people he doesn’t know, and goes really quiet. But he’s spoken, so that’s a good thing.”

Legolas turned back to sneak a peek at her, bursting into child-like giggles and hiding himself again. She couldn’t help but laugh, and reached over to tickle him. He squealed and wriggled in his father’s arms, his laugh contagious.

“You’re just gorgeous,” she said.

“Go-jus,” he repeated. “Go-jus.”

The two men started to laugh.

“Are you gorgeous?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. Go-jus,” he answered.

She sat back in her seat, pulling her lips in to refrain from laughing out loud. “Oh my God, he’s adorable,” she said.

“Unfortunately the child support that would accompany him is even more adorable to some people,” Elrond said, his tone darkening. “And that is something that needs to be stopped in its tracks.”

She felt Thranduil’s mood change without looking at him.

“One way or another, this will end in my favour,” he vowed, his voice low. “No-one will take my son from me. No-one.”

The tense atmosphere was broken by the sound of the front door slamming closed.

“Anybody home?” a voice called out.

“In the kitchen, Gandalf,” Elrond shouted back.

An older man in a rather worn and tattered grey suit ambled in, setting his briefcase down onto the table. “Ah..you must be Alisha,” he said immediately, shaking her hand.

“Gandalf Grey, my attorney,” Thranduil introduced him. “And proverbial monkey on my back of late.”

“With good reason, my friend,” the newcomer said to him. “I am not on your back without good reason.” He turned back to Alisha. “It’s my pleasure to meet you,” he told her, his eyes sparkling as he smiled under bushy whiskers.

“Pleased to meet you,” she returned with a smile of her own.

“Thranduil, do you have time for a brief meeting? There are some things that I must go over with you,” he said.

“Yes, of course,” he replied, shifting on his seat.

“D’you want me to hold him?” she asked, holding her arms out. “I’m sure Elrond can take over if he doesn’t settle with me.”

“Do not allow him to make a mockery of you,” he told her, rising to his feet and handing her the squirming, still-giggling child. “Behave, Legolas.”

“’have,” he repeated, settling on her knees. “I ‘have.”

His parent drew him a look before turning and following his attorney out of the room.

Alisha turned her eyes to the youngster who regarded her with wide, curious eyes. “Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling. “Hair.” He tugged on her hair, making Elrond laugh quietly. “Ong hair.”

“Long hair,” she repeated. “I like your hair.” She gently threaded her fingers through his soft blond hair, which was long enough to almost touch his shoulders.

He grinned at her. “Wanna pay?”

Her eye brows lifted for a moment. “Play? Sure, I wanna play,” she told him. “What shall we play with?”

“Bicks,” he replied instantly. “Lots of bicks.” Siding from her lap, he tugged her leg and toddled off, fully expecting her to follow.

She stood up, and he returned dragging a box of plastic building blocks.

“Bicks,” he announced, and plopped down onto his rear on the floor. “Build bicks…like daddy.”

She frowned for a second, before realising the connection. Father, building and construction company, building bricks. “What shall we build?” she asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him.

“Shops,” he answered. He tipped the box upside down, sending a multitude of coloured blocks scattering across the floor. “Oops.”

“That’s ok,” she said, reaching to scoop the errant ones back within his reach. “Shall we use…red blocks?”

His little head shook from side to side in determination. “Boo ones,” he told her.

“Ok, here’s a blue one,” she said. “And there’s another one over there.”

He obligingly reached for it, snapping the two together.

Elrond sat on one of the seats at the table. “I’ve never seen him take to someone so quickly,” he said in wonder. “You must have something special, Alisha.”

She glanced up at him with a grin. “Not really. I just refuse to speak down to children, that’s all. People have this misguided thing that because kids are small they’re stupid, but that’s so wrong. Half the time I think they’re cleverer than we are, they just don’t know how to show it.”

“I’m not going to say too much on the subject, but that child means so much to Thranduil,” he said softly. “He is also my God-son, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. The lengths people will go to for greed astound me sometimes.”

“I’m not sure anything astounds me anymore,” she said, her mind going back to the tapes Thranduil had found and the distress they had caused him. “People are motivated by the wrong things; they’ve lost touch with what’s really important in life.”

He shook his head, watching the small boy stack blue bricks together. “I don’t know what he’ll do if he loses him,” he murmered. “I’m sorry,” he said, snapping back to the present. “I promised I wouldn’t put any pressure on you.”

“It’s ok,” she assured him. “He’s a gorgeous wee guy, and anybody can see the bond between him and his dad. Anyone who’d willingly try to destroy that is just way beyond cruel, in my opinion.”

His jaw tightened. “As you have probably surmised, Thranduil is not lacking when it comes to wealth,” he said. “But it seems that nothing can buy his way out of this despicable situation. He’s stressed out of his mind.”

“No wonder,” she agreed as she handed a stray block to Legolas. “So this cousin – she’s never even met the little one?”

He shook his head. “No. All she appears to be concerned with is the monthly child support payments. She has never contacted, or sent a birthday or Christmas card, nothing. The first anyone knew of her was when Thranduil was served with the court papers.”

“Good God,” she muttered. “People make me sick sometimes.”

“Ook,” Legolas ordered, holding aloft a stack of blue blocks. “Ook!”

“Wow, that’s really good!” she praised him. “Shall we build another colour? What colour do you like?”

“I dunno,” he said wistfully.

She lifted a block. “What colour is this?”

Wide eyes moved to hers. “Pink.”

“Uh-uh. Not pink.”

“Peach,” he decided, and she laughed.

“No. It’s green, like the trees,” she told him.

“Gween?” he questioned. “Gween?”

She nodded, handing him the brick. “Green.”

“Twees,” he agreed, and began assembling all the green blocks into a pile.

Her eyes met Elronds, and she saw a strange look there, but he looked away before she could question it.

Thranduil stormed back into the kitchen, slamming his empty mug on the worktop.

Gandalf followed, shaking his head slightly as his eyes met Elrond’s. He lifted his briefcase and nodded to Alisha. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he told her. “Take care. I’ll be in touch.” The latter was directed at both adult males.

Elrond glanced at Thranduil as the attorney left. “What happened?” he asked.

The towering blonde didn’t answer straight away. “He’s putting serious pressure on me now,” he replied eventually. “The old bastard is like a dog with a bone.”

“Bastard,” Legolas repeated.

“You’ve _mastered_ building your shops,” Alisha quickly said.

“Mastered,” he nodded. “Ook daddy…I mastered shop!”

He shot her a look of gratitude as he lowered himself down onto his haunches. “So you have, little man,” he said, ruffling his soft hair. “Maybe you can help me build my next shop.”

“I build,” he agreed.

Thranduil shook his head and sat back on his heels, resting his hands on his knees. “I really need to watch what I say a little more,” he acknowledged.

She grinned. “Just a good thing I’m an expert with words and literature,” she quipped.

“So what’s the next step?” Elrond questioned. “What did Gandalf say?”

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “I’ve been called to stand before the judge on Monday morning,” he answered. “It’s make or break time before the hearing.”

Alisha didn’t say anything, instead turning her attention to the child at her side who was intent on taking over the construction industry.


	7. Chapter 7

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

****

Groaning in disgust, Alisha rolled over and buried her face into the soft feather pillow, dragging the quilt up around her shoulders. Daytime had arrived far too early, having spent all day with Legolas, Thranduil and Elrond, and not turning in to bed until the early hours.

The insistent ruckus from downstairs that had rudely awoken her continued, and she scowled as she hauled herself to a sitting position. Angry shouts filtered up to her, along with the sound of a child crying.

She whipped the quilt back, grabbing her robe and angrily yanking it on and tying the sash. Her feet thundered along the hallway and down the stairs, and she found a scene of distress and chaos in the hallway.

Thranduil stood just inside the doorway, Legolas crying hysterically in his arms. A man and a woman stood before them, shouting angrily. The woman was gesticulating as she yelled, her cheeks red with anger. The man stood with his arms folded in an aggressive stance, interjecting occasionally over her ranting.

Thranduil cradled Legolas closer, warning her to keep her voice down, but she ignored him. The child cried harder.

Alisha’s temper snapped as the woman reached for him, trying to physically yank him from his father’s arms.

“Will someone care to tell me what the _hell_ is going on here?” she snarled, stepping off the last step and marching towards them.

“And who are you?” the woman demanded, momentarily releasing her grip on Legolas.

“That’s none of your business,” she spat back.

“Who is this slut?” the woman shot towards Thranduil. “And why is she still in her robe at this time of day? Been up all night, have we?” Venom dripped from her words.

“Yes, I have,” she lied smoothly. “Walking the floor for half the night with the little one, because he’s cutting another tooth and wouldn’t settle. Thranduil kindly let me sleep late to catch up, not that it’s any of your business.” She turned to him. “Let me have him.”

“Uh, you don’t touch him!” the woman cried, attempting to block her.

Alisha swiftly deflected her with a downwards swipe of her arm. “You don’t touch me,” she hissed angrily. 

“And what are you to him?”

“I’m his fiancée,” she snapped. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to take _my child_ away from your racket and settle him.”

Thranduil silently handed him over, and he instantly snuggled in against her neck with soft little choked sobs. She glared at the couple as she rubbed his little back, turning and walking away from them.

“It’s ok, baby boy,” she murmered into his ear. “Everything’s ok.”

Thranduil turned back to his unwanted visitors. “If you so much as dare to _look_ at my property again before the hearing, I will have you charged,” he warned angrily. “You do not barge into my home and upset my son, or my fiancée. I will make sure the judge hears of this. Now get out of my house.”

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” the woman snarled through gritted teeth. “We’ll see you in court!”

“Good. Now stay the hell away from us in the meantime!” he replied, slamming the door as they passed through it. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, the tension making his head pound. The one thing in the world he didn’t want was for his son to be upset, and not to the levels his mother’s cousin and her husband had caused. He strode down the hall towards the direction he and Alisha had disappeared.

She was in the kitchen, bouncing him gently in her arms and quietly _shhh_ ing to comfort him. Her angry eyes met his over the top of the youngster’s blonde head. “I assume that was the cousin?”

He nodded, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. “Yes.”

“She’s an idiot, and so is her husband,” she said.

He was amazed at her tone. She spoke in such a soft, gentle voice; the only thing portraying her fury was the blue flames that danced in her eyes. He knew immediately that although she was angry over what had happened, she wasn’t going to upset his child by voicing that anger, and had deliberately altered her tone as she spoke.

He inhaled deeply. “You know you’ve put the cat amongst the pigeons now,” he told her.

“How come?” Her hand continued to rub Legolas’s back, and he noticed his son beginning to doze against her shoulder.

“You told them that you are my fiancée,” he replied.

She shrugged with one shoulder. “And? I am. I’ve decided to take the job.”

His eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?” he gasped in disbelief.

“Yes,” she said. “Thranduil, no matter what my initial impressions were of you, nobody can deny the love between you and this boy, and if I can stop someone from breaking that bond, then I will. So it’s ten years of my life – this angel needs the rest of his childhood with his father. You. Not those damned reprobates.”

He stood in silence, stunned. He hadn’t really expected her to accept, knowing the commitment that he’d demanded as part of the conditions of employment. She was willingly giving up an entire decade of her life, perhaps more.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” he said. “I…I…I’m shocked.”

Her eyes held his over Legolas’s now-sleeping form. “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind about the offer?”

“No, not at all,” he said quickly. “It’s just…it’s a massive commitment, Alisha – a huge commitment. Are you sure that you can dedicate yourself as much as you would need to? Have you thought about this?”

Her eyes drifted to the bundle tucked against her shoulder, who snuffled softly as he breathed. “Yes. He’s worth it. The bond between you both is worth it,” she answered. She looked back at him. “I know that you aren’t a monster. I would be able to tell even without what I already know, just by the way he reacts to you, and how you are with him. My instinct is strong on this one, and I know I’m not making a mistake. So if the offer’s still there, I’ll take the job.”

The air left his lungs with a _whoosh_ as he stepped towards her, freeing his hands and folding his arms around both her and his son. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he whispered, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I feel like now I have a fighting chance of keeping my son with me.”

She inhaled deeply as she leaned against him. “You do,” she said. “And we’ll fight this together. Legolas stays here, where he belongs.”

*****

Thranduil remained fairly silent after Alisha’s declaration that she was going to take on the job he’d offered. His mind was confused. Although he was pleased she’d accepted the position, and deeply grateful that Legolas had taken so well to her, he didn’t know what the future held. When he’d put the initial offer to her, he’d known what he was asking.

Gandalf had hammered it into him how he needed to find a wife to gain some leverage for the custody case, and how he needed to do it fast. He’d come up with a thousand different scenarios and solutions, each one revolving around a business agreement which would be verified by the signatures on a contract.

But she had accepted, and he was facing reality.

She was young – only thirty. She had her whole life in front of her. A future where she would find someone and fall in love, yet she would be entering the potential relationship as a divorcee with a failed marriage at her back. She’d have lost a good ten years of her life and her freedom in said marriage, not to mention she’d undoubtedly lose a part of herself over that amount of time. She’d be a mother to his child, who’d never known a mother figure, and she’d have to walk away from that eventually.

He watched her silently, observing her as she rapidly chopped onions and slid them off the chopping board into the pan on the stove, setting the knife into the sink and wiping her hands on the tea towel slung over her left shoulder.

Was he asking for too much?

Maybe. But his future with his son depended on it. He _needed_ his child, just like his child needed him. What he didn’t need was a pair of strangers raising him, concerned only with financial gain and how much they could claim.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Alisha said, breaking into his trance.

He lifted his eyes and found her staring at him.

“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she said. “I think I’ll change your name to Atlas.”

He smiled. “I was just thinking, that’s all,” he replied. “Nothing important.”

The look she gave him told him that she wasn’t convinced.

“I was just thinking about the contract,” he admitted. “It…it seemed water-tight when I first spoke to you of it. And now that you’ve accepted…” He trailed off into silence.

She watched him for a few moments, taking in his lowered shoulders, and his head tipped forwards slightly. “Christ – I thought it was supposed to be the bride who had second thoughts,” she muttered.

His head shot up. “I am not having second thoughts, Alisha,” he told her. “I just feel…I don’t know. Perhaps the job entails more commitment than is fair to demand from someone.”

“Look, we’ll go over the terms after dinner,” she said. “I’m sure Gandalf is currently breaking the world speed record right now to get here, so once we’ve had something to eat, we can sit down and go through everything. If something bothers me, I’ll speak up. If something bothers you, say it at the time. There’s no point in both of us getting into something that’s legally watertight and then finding out we’re not a hundred percent happy with it.”

“No, you’re right,” he sighed. “Ten years though…”

“So I’ll be your age at the end of it,” she replied. “I’ll hardly be past it. Unless you’re past it..?”

He scowled at her, and she started to laugh.

“See? Relax, for crying out loud. Have a glass of wine or something, and stop fretting like a mother hen,” she told him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think I’m too difficult to live with, and we’ll be at different ends of the house anyway, won’t we? You still go off to work and do your thing, in the meantime I stay here with Legolas and do my thing, and we meet at the end of each day. I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Maybe not on the surface,” he murmered, before snapping back to the present. “Ok, I will be honest.”

She folded her arms, waiting.

“The one point I am going to be absolutely _pedantic_ about is that you cannot have affairs, because that would play right into the hands of the court,” he said. “So what happens if you meet someone? What happens if you fall in love, and want to go off and be with him? Where does that leave my son?”

She rolled his concerns around in her head for a few moments. “Your son is my top priority, and he’s the reason I accepted this job,” she replied eventually. “He’s tiny, and he’s depending on you as his father to provide him with a clean, safe, happy home and all the love he deserves. My job for the next ten years is to make sure that happens, and that it doesn’t fall into the hands of money-hungry arseholes who can only see dollar signs wherever they look. Right now, the love of my life is that wee guy through there-“  she pointed towards the doorway to where Legolas was playing with small cars. “-and if something happens, or if someone else comes along, then I’ll deal with it at the time. You’re crossing bridges that haven’t even been built yet, and getting yourself into a right mess.”

He considered her words, chewing his bottom lip.

She sighed, turning back to the cooker and stirring the pan. “Talk over all the legal jargon with Gandalf when he gets here. In the meantime, chill out a bit.”

He shrugged, making her smile in the process. “Are you always this bossy?” he asked, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Like I answered that same question not that long ago – yes, when someone doesn’t know what’s good for them,” she retorted. “Seriously Thranduil, you need to relax. Or you won’t be able to pull this off in front of the judge. You either do this, and do it a hundred percent, or you don’t do it at all. Your choice. I can find another job.”

“I can do it, and I _will_ do it,” he said. “I’m just thinking of the what if’s when I probably shouldn’t be.”

“Aloha, anyone home?” a voice called, followed by the sound of the main door slamming.

“I swear that old goat can’t close a door without banging it off the hinges,” he muttered. “In the kitchen, Gandalf!” he called, in a stronger voice.

Alisha grinned.

“Well,” the attorney announced as he ambled into the room. “I believe congratulations are in order to the happy couple! Well done Thranduil, well done. I thought you wouldn’t find someone to do this.”

“Less of the _happy couple_ nonsense,” he told him. “And I was beginning to share your concerns, I have to admit.”

The elderly man glared at him. “Let me inform you, you are both half of a _happy couple,_ else we will lose this case, you will lose custody of your son, and I will lose what’s left of my hair!”

Alisha turned to the attorney with a cup of coffee. “We’ll perfect our act in time, don’t worry,” she assured him. “Have this, and take the weight off your feet. Dinner is only about twenty minutes away. We’ll talk about this afterwards.”

True to her word, she served their meal within the twenty-minute timeframe, during which Thranduil settled Legolas in his high chair, and they all sat down to eat. The conversation rolled from the child’s increasing vocabulary, to an upcoming contract in Thranduil and Elrond’s company.

It eventually turned to the unwelcome visit that morning.

“I swear, if ever I felt like lamping someone, it was that horrible monstrosity of a woman,” Alisha said, stabbing her fork through a tender piece of meat. “She didn’t care that she was upsetting the wee one with all her shouting and yelling, she was only interested in making a point.”

“If it happens again, take out a restraining order,” Gandalf advised, glancing at Thranduil. “That’s intimidating a minor, and she cannot get away with that. I’ll make sure the judge knows, come your initial meeting on Monday.”

The blonde nodded. “Shall we go as a couple?” he asked.

“Yes. The sooner you make your relationship and intentions public, the better,” he replied. “Have you worked out your back story?”

“What’s wrong with saying we met because I was his uncle’s private nurse?” she asked. “It wouldn’t be a lie, it’s the truth. We just manipulate the time frame, that’s all.”

Thranduil nodded. “I can go with that. So how many years?”

“Two?” she suggested. “We met when you brought baby Legolas over to meet him.”

His face darkened ever so slightly as he looked away, and she gently nudged him under the table with her toe, lifting one eyebrow.

“That sounds ideal to me,” Gandalf said, tucking into his meal and ignorant to the silent conversation between the two.

“And we kept our feelings quiet because we didn’t want anything to interfere with his care,” Thranduil suggested. “Obviously things have changed recently, and we can plan our lives together.”

“Perfect,” she agreed. “And we don’t have to go through all the rigmarole of you meeting my parents, blah blah blah, because they died years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, my dear,” Gandalf said sympathetically, and she shrugged.

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “And I have no other family, so we don’t have to contend with making up details as we go along. My side is pretty simple.”

“May I make a suggestion?” the attorney asked, pausing his eating to look over at them.

“By all means,” Thranduil replied.

“Arrange the wedding for a week today.”

Alisha’s eyebrows shot up, and she met his astonished eyes.

“Next Friday?” he said incredulously. “That’s too fast, Gandalf. Much too fast.”

He shook his head, reaching for his glass of wine. “The sooner you move, the better,” he said. “And I would suggest at least putting up some sort of façade here at home also – I wouldn’t put it past the judge to have Child Services or such like doing unexpected house calls solely to try to catch you out. He’s an old codger, and wouldn’t appreciate being pulled into a ruse such as this.”

Alisha smiled at Legolas as he banged his spoon on the table, and picked up a small piece of mashed potato to put in his mouth. She laughed softly as he chewed on her finger.

Thranduil watched them, observing the tender, private moment shared between the two. He felt a strange flutter in his heart, and knew instantly that his child would be safe, protected, and loved in her care.

“Shall we go over the employment contract?” Gandalf enquired, dragging him from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t eat another thing. Dinner was delicious Alisha; thankyou.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” she replied, getting to her feet and moving to clear the plates.

“No, I’ll get them,” he said, rising to his feet and holding a hand out to stop her. “You two head through to the lounge. I’ll make coffee and bring it through.”

She lifted Legolas from his chair, sticking her tongue out at him as he blew bubbles at her. Thranduil watched her as she left the kitchen, his son clinging to her and babbling away as she walked with him.

“You’ve done well in your choice,” Gandalf told him as he turned to follow her.

*****

“So…if you both agree that there’s nothing else which you wish to add, it’s simply a case of signing at the bottom,” the attorney concluded. “I will keep these locked away for safekeeping, until such time arises that you need to peruse them or alter them.”

An hour had passed since their meal had finished. They’d sat leaning towards the low coffee table; Alisha and Thranduil on the plush leather couch, and Gandalf in the armchair across from them. Legolas had contented himself with scribbling in a giant flip-pad with chunky crayons, chattering away to himself.

She lifted the pen and quickly signed her name with a flourish. “This gives a whole new meaning to signing your life away,” she grinned, handing it to Thranduil.

He gave a small smile as he added his signature next to hers, returning the documents to Gandalf.

“I would strongly suggest come Monday morning, get yourselves booked in for a wedding,” he told them, filing them into his ever-present briefcase. “You’re facing the judge at nine thirty. If you can prove you’ve already booked it, it’ll work in your favour. But take heed on what I said about random, unexpected visits to the house. I’d be more surprised if he didn’t go down that route.”

Thranduil nodded solemnly. “We’ll sort something out,” he said. “There’s one thing we haven’t covered though,” he added with a frown.

“Oh?”

Both heads turned to him, and his eyes met Alisha’s.

“A divorce settlement,” he said.

A frown slashed down over her eyes. “I don’t want a divorce settlement,” she said. “Why the hell would you think that? This is a job contract, not a pay-off deal.”

“Granted,” he agreed. “But when we eventually separate, you will require a settlement, and monthly support.” He saw the fire blaze to life in her eyes.

“Is that what you think I’m doing this for, for money at the end of everything?” she asked, her tone dangerously soft. “Because if it is-“

“I think that what Thranduil is trying to say,” interrupted Gandalf, who knew an oncoming tornado when he saw one. “-is that when this is all over, you will be legally entitled to sue him for a share of what belongs to him.”

Fury blasted through her. She glared at the attorney, who meekly closed his mouth and sat back, then turned her angry stare to her future husband. “Seriously? That’s what’s on your mind?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held her hand up as she shot to her feet.

“I’m going to bed,” she snapped. “I have heard enough.” She leaned down and kissed Legolas’s chubby cheek, giving him a smile as he grinned up at her, before storming out of the lounge. Her footsteps pounding up the stairs drifted through to the two men left sitting in stunned silence.

“Well…I think you’re about to have your first argument,” Gandalf muttered. “And I think it’s time I took my leave. I have a relaxing weekend planned, and I don’t want it ruined with fights from the happy couple.”

“Be quiet,” Thranduil said sarcastically. “I have to sort this, and sort it before Monday.”

“Use your charm,” his friend advised with a grin. “I’ll meet you in court. Don’t do anything stupid before then.”

_Too late,_ he thought, watching his attorney head down the hallway towards the door. _Too damned late._


	8. Chapter 8

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

****

After settling Legolas into bed, Thranduil sighed to himself as he left the child’s room, leaving the door open a little. He padded along towards the room Alisha was in, dreading the conversation that he was going to attempt to have. He didn’t want to let trouble fester and grow overnight, preferring to sleep with a clear mind.

“Alisha?” he said softly, knocking gently on the closed door.

A few moments of silence followed, and he jumped as the door flew open. Her angry stare met his.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“No we don’t,” she replied. “You said all you needed to say, and made me feel like shit in the process. I’ve had enough for one night.”

She moved to close the door, but he placed a hand on it and stopped her.

“We need to talk,” he repeated. “I’m not going away – I can stand here all night if I have to. And that’ll just disturb Legolas.”

Her eyes darted towards the youngster’s room, then moved back to his father. She reluctantly turned away from the door, and he followed her into the room, closing it behind him.

“You misread what I said,” he told her.

She threw herself down onto the bed, pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged. “How did I?”

“You assumed that-“

“I didn’t _assume_ anything,” she interrupted. “Tell me something. Did it never occur to you that once an employment contract is finished, normally the employee goes off and finds another job? They don’t sue their fucking employer for half of everything they have.”

“True, but this isn’t a normal situation, or a normal state of employment,” he pointed out. “This is a marriage, out of which you would be _legally_ within your rights to take me to court afterwards. That’s what married couples do when they divorce.”

She scowled at him as she rubbed lotion onto her hands. “Well guess what – I’m not a normal employee either,” she spat. “For God’s sake Thranduil – I’m so insulted, it’s not even funny.”

He frowned in genuine confusion. “I do not understand,” he said.

She shifted, lowering her feet to the floor. “You’re paying me what – five grand a month? And a car?”

“Yes, and more if you require it,” he answered.

“Don’t you think that’s a pretty generous amount to pay anybody?” she demanded. “Think about it. That works out at sixty grand a year, over ten years it’s six hundred thousand. Minus whatever rent you’d be taking, it’s still one hell of an amount to pay an employee.”

“Wait a minute…back up,” he said, stepping towards her with an angry frown. “Who said anything about rent?”

“Well-“

“You will be my _wife,_ ” he said, his temper evident. “You will _not_ be paying rent. For fuck’s sake Alisha, what kind of a person do you think I am??”

She blinked, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of his emotions on the subject. “Well I’ll be your wife, but on paper only,” she said. “Why would I not pay rent?”

He stopped in front of her, glaring down at her. “Now _I_ am the one who is insulted.”

“I don’t know why,” she said. “Ted charged me rent for nine years; why wouldn’t you charge it for ten?”

He leaned down and stared at her, so close, she could see the sparks in his ice blue eyes. “Because as my wife, you will be living here through mutual choice,” he said through gritted teeth. “And by the terms of the contract. I am _not_ my damned uncle, I do not function like him, and I do not live my life the way he did. How can I ask you to take on this job then charge you to live here, when it’s part of the agreement?!”

She stared at him, speechless.

He slowly pulled back. “I do not wish to discuss this again,” he said. “There will be no charge for rent, understand?”

She nodded.

He sighed, turning and walking away, running a hand through his hair. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

“I’ll accept that as part of the deal, providing you agree to something,” she said, after a short pause.

He spun back round to face her. “It is part of the deal you just signed,” he reminded her. “But go on.”

“I want a prenup.”

“A what?” he exclaimed.

“A prenup,” she repeated. “One that states in the case of divorce, I take nothing except what I’ve earned, in other words, the wage you’ve paid me.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. “You have taken leave of your senses,” he decided finally. “Do you realise how much you would be able to walk away with?”

She shot off the bed and charged towards him, stopping right at his toes and glaring up at him. “Do you realise I’m not doing this for the money?” she hissed. “I’m doing it for that little guy through there, and for you, to keep both of you together the way it’s supposed to be. So yeah, the pay is amazing, but it’s not for the money, Thranduil. Get it through your head that we’re not all motivated by greed and gain. I certainly am not. And if you think otherwise, then maybe I’m not suited to the position and am better off walking away from it!”

His eyes narrowed. “You signed a legally binding contract.”

“And?” She shrugged. “Sue me. I don’t have anything, you wouldn’t gain anything.”

He pursed his mouth, watching her. “I do not understand you,” he said after some thought.

“You don’t have to,” she shot back. “It’s not like we’re going to be popping out kids after a romantic honeymoon period. You’ll be carrying on with your work, I’ll be at home cleaning, making meals for when you come home, and raising Legolas. It’s that simple. Stop complicating things.”

He sighed resolutely, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t realise that I was,” he said quietly. He looked back at her. “Every divorce ends in a lawsuit of sorts.”

She lifted one eyebrow. “Then maybe it’s time to do something different from what everybody else is doing,” she said. “Please ask Gandalf to arrange a prenup. That’s all I ask.”

His nostrils flared as they stared each other out.

He sighed again. “Will that make you happy?” His tone was tired.

“Yes,” she replied. “It will. What you’re paying me is more than enough, Thranduil. More than enough.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “If that is what you wish. I’ll see to it on Monday after our meeting with the judge.” He turned towards the door, then turned back as though he was going to say something. Seemingly changing his mind, he shook his head and left her room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

*****

“It’s arranged for eleven o’clock Friday morning,” Thranduil said, irritated. “Stop pestering me, goddammit.”

Gandalf blatantly ignored his irked tone. “Good. And you have your story straight?” He hurried alongside the tall blonde, his steps speeding up to keep pace with him.

“Yes,” he ground out. “Everything is polished down to the last detail. Your job now is to get us through this shambles of a meeting, then get a prenuptial agreement drawn up.”

“For heavens’ sake, hold hands or something,” the attorney grumbled. “At least make an effort to have this pass off as something towards convincing.”

Alisha smiled to herself as she slid her hand into his and he started slightly at the sudden contact. “Done. Relax, both of you,” she said. “And smile.”

He glanced down at her with a bright smile. “Better?”

She laughed. “Much.”

They approached the court building and began climbing the intimidating mound of concrete steps, dodging suit-wearing attorneys and various people rushing to and from the doors. Once inside, they took a seat in the waiting area as Gandalf disappeared to inform the clerk of their presence. Thranduil released her hand and instead slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.

“Mmm, that’s definitely an improvement,” she smiled up at him. “You never know who’s walking around taking note of what’s going on.”

“The thought crossed my mind as well,” he admitted. “So I thought I’d better make more of an effort.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little effort,” she said softly, placing one hand on his knee as she glanced along the busy corridor.

Beside her, Thranduil settled into silence.

It had been a _long_ time since he’d had physical contact with a female. A very long time.

Gandalf’s eyes lit up as he approached them, his smile hidden behind his bushy whiskers. “We should be in on time,” he announced. “We’re first up in front of the judge, and he’s already arrived. I assume he’ll be going over the notes on the case.”

“Good. I’m starving,” she said. “I probably should’ve eaten before we left this morning.”

“Elrond will no doubt have something prepared for when we get back,” Thranduil said.

“Mr Oropherion? Mr Grey?” a voice called from further down.

All three heads turned, and Thranduil uncrossed his legs.

“The judge will see you now,” the clerk said, motioning for them to follow.

The three of them walked after her, following her into the large courtroom. Alisha’s blood pressure rose slightly as she clocked the couple who’d caused the scene back at the house just a few days ago.

“My Oropherion, Mr Grey,” the judge addressed them as they approached him, peering over the top of his glasses. His gaze settled on Alisha, and he frowned. “And this is..?”

“Alisha Thomas,” Thranduil replied smoothly. “My fiancée.”

The cousin and her husband exchanged angry looks, but remained silent.

The judge lowered the documents he had in his hand. “Really? And when did this turn in events come about?” Suspicion practically poured from his words.

“I was Thranduil’s uncle’s private nurse for the last nine years,” she answered confidently.

One eyebrow arched. “And yet there has been no mention of you in any of the paperwork or statements before me,” the judge said.

“No Sir, there undoubtedly wouldn’t be,” she replied. “My patient required one hundred percent commitment from me, and Thranduil and I thought it best to hold off on our relationship.”

“So why announce it now?”

“My uncle passed away recently,” Thranduil put in.

Gandalf stepped forwards, sliding a brown file towards the judge. “All the documentation is there,” he said. “You will find a contract of employment for Ms Thomas, and of course a copy of the death certificate for Edward Morris. It’s all there.”

The judge stared at him, deep suspicion in his eyes.

Gandalf didn’t bat an eyelid as he stepped back to stand beside the couple.

“My Lord, if I may,” the woman standing a few feet away spoke up. “I would suggest that this is a farce, designed in a futile attempt to retain custody of the child. Nothing more.”

Alisha’s grip on Thranduil’s hand tightened. This woman had an axe to grind, but so did she. She hadn’t forgotten Legolas’s terrified crying as she’d screamed and yelled in front of him.

He silently flexed his warm fingers around hers.

“You have a wedding date for this coming Friday,” the judge drawled, flipping through the papers in the folder. “A bit hasty, is it not?” He glared at the two of them.

“We met two years ago, and fell in love over time,” Thranduil replied. “My uncle is no longer with us and will not suffer with my fiancée’s attention being elsewhere, so we have decided to wed as soon as we are able.”

“Hmm,” he grunted, going back to the papers. “This all does seem rather _convenient._ ”

“We are only marrying now as my patient has passed away,” Alisha spoke up. “If he was still with us, we would have held off until such time.”

“Such dedication to your job, Ms Thomas,” he said sarcastically.

“It’s what I trained for, Sir,” she replied.

Thranduil admired her confidence.

“Very well,” the judge said finally. “We will have our hearing two weeks from today, as planned. I expect to see documented proof that this… _marriage…_ has indeed taken place.”

Thranduil tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Of course,” he replied.

“You may go. And another thing – there will be no further outbursts like that which took place before the weekend,” he added to the other couple. “Do not think I haven’t been made aware of you storming into the child’s home and causing a scene which distressed the boy no end. Be warned.”

The trio left in silence, with Thranduil and Alisha still holding hands. Gandalf kept his thoughts to himself until they were crossing the street and heading towards the Range Rover.

“Now listen up,” he said, stopping and turning to them as they reached the vehicle. “Do _not_ slip up from here on. He suspects that this is a blind-siding tactic, and if his suspicions have ground, you will both face imprisonment for fraud.”

“We won’t slip up,” she said confidently.

“I’m serious,” he barked, making her jump a little. “You’re going shopping for a wedding gown tomorrow? Act like a couple deeply in love, unable to take your hands off each other, smiling at one another all the time. This is your life for the next ten years, _any_ time you are not alone. Do you understand?”

“We understand,” Thranduil said tiredly. “And stop frightening Alisha. You’re too overbearing sometimes with your approach, my friend.”

The attorney grumbled behind his whiskers. “Let me down on this, and I’m looking at jail time along with you,” he warned. “And I will make you both suffer no end, believe me.”

“More than you already are?” he quipped, opening the passenger door and helping her into the car.

“Infantile,” Gandalf muttered as he went around to the driver’s side. “Call me tomorrow.”

“I will,” he replied as he slid into the seat. “Good grief,” he muttered, once the door was closed.

Alisha laughed and took his hand again. “Play along with him,” she advised. “He may have a valid point. If we drop the act in front of the wrong person, it’s over.”

He took a deep breath as she squeezed his fingers, releasing him so he could drive. Pulling away from the sidewalk, he glanced in the rear view mirror at his lawyer, who stood staring after them.

*****

“It sounds to me as though you’ve at least started off on the right foot,” Elrond remarked, sliding slices of pizza onto a large serving plate. “The judge has bought into your story at least half way, so that’s a good start. All you need to do now is reinforce it and keep it up.”

“He’s in for a gunk if he thinks he’ll catch us out,” Alisha said in between blowing raspberries at Legolas, who squealed in delight each time. “This little man’s too precious for us to make any mistakes. Aren’t you, little man?”

He grabbed her hair and yanked hard, making her yelp.

“Legolas!” Thranduil said, rising from his seat and taking him from her. “Sorry about that,” he said to her. “That was bad, Legolas. Naughty.”

“Bad,” he agreed solemnly, before yanking on his father’s long hair.

“Dear God,” he muttered.

Elrond put the plate into the middle of the table, seating himself as he did so. “So it’s shopping for a wedding dress tomorrow?” he asked, with a smile in her direction. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“Not at this point, no,” she answered, lifting a slice. “I was thinking maybe just buy a skirt suit and be done with it.”

Thranduil shook his head. “A classy wedding gown would be more appropriate,” he told her. “Nothing too flouncy or over-the-top; something elegant and sedate.”

“You’ve chosen the small church over by Lakeside?” Elrond asked.

He nodded. “It’s small, it’s cosy, and it means we don’t have the pressure of having to invite hundreds of people,” he replied. He looked over at Alisha. “Have you given any though as to who you want to invite?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have any family,” she replied.

He frowned. “What about friends?”

She took a deep breath, feeling put on the spot. “No.”

“Nobody you’d invite?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

She set her pizza down onto her plate, choosing her words carefully. “How can I put it…when I worked for Ted, I wasn’t allowed to have friends over,” she said. “I was only permitted to leave the property if he had company, in case he needed me for anything. And he seldom had company. I lost touch with everyone I went through college with, worked with at the Home, all the people I knew. So, no. Nobody.”

The two adult males exchanged looks.

“So you effectively had to exist in isolation,” Thranduil stated. “You weren’t allowed or expected to socialise at all?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He leaned back, shaking his head. “This is insane,” he muttered. “How the fuck-“

“Fuck,” parroted Legolas.

“Duck!” she quickly corrected, grabbing a stuffed toy from the floor and plopping it into his hands. “Duck.”

His father broke off, clenching his teeth.

Elrond watched the two of them in silence as he chewed his pizza. “Here, let me take him,” he said eventually, reaching over for the child. “Legolas, tell me what a duck says.”

“Quack, quack,” he complied.

Thranduil leaned closer to Alisha. “He wouldn’t allow you to have friends over, at all?” he asked.

“No,” she answered. “It was part of the job – I had to be available round the clock, at all times. If I was busy with friends, I wouldn’t have been at his beck and call. And let’s face it – at his age, he hardly wanted a group of rowdy twenty-something year olds running riot in his house.”

He snorted. “Lame excuse,” he decided, sitting back. “So you have nobody to invite to the wedding.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Sorry.”

He frowned. “I’m not going to respond to that,” he muttered. “Elrond – who are you bringing?”

“My children, obviously,” he replied, bouncing Legolas on his knees. “I have two sons and a daughter, Alisha,” he said to her.

She smiled. “Great. I can’t wait to meet them,” she said.

“You may not say that when you get to know my boys,” he said dryly, making Thranduil laugh.

“Pay him no attention,” he advised. “They aren’t as bad as he makes them out to be.”

She’d finished her pizza, and held her arms out for Legolas, so Elrond could continue with his. “And guess who’s going to be the guest of honour?” she asked him, swinging him onto her lap.

“Oo?” he enquired innocently.

“You are,” she replied, and he grinned up at her. “Yes, you. I can see you now, all dressed up and looking cute.”

“I cute,” he informed her.

“Bashful, too,” Thranduil smirked.

“Of course!” she told him. “When you’re this cute, you’re allowed to be.”

“Shall I take him for a few hours tomorrow?” Elrond offered. “That way you’ll be free to trail around the wedding stores, and he won’t get tired or cranky, or be in his stroller for too long.”

“Haven’t you got things to do, like work?” Thranduil asked pointedly, and his friend laughed heartily.

“Delegation, Oropherion, delegation,” he replied. “That’s the bonus of being one of the managing directors.”

“I don’t mind taking him along,” she said. “But like you say, it might be a long morning in his stroller, and it’ll be too far for him to walk.”

“I’ll take him, that’s not a problem,” he said. “Shall I be here around eight thirty?”

“Sounds good to me,” she told him, ignoring Thranduil muttering under his breath about maybe one day he’d actually manage a long lie.


	9. Chapter 9

** CHAPTER NINE **

****

“Oh Jesus Christ, noooo!” Alisha wailed.

Thranduil grinned, sitting comfortably on a richly upholstered seat in a lavish bridal outlet. “Something wrong, my darling?” he called, knowing his voice and his barely-concealed amusement carried over the changing room door.

“Wrong?” she spat back. “Wrong?! This looks like a meringue, not a wedding dress. Goddammit…now I can’t get out of it…”

He choked back his laughter, beckoning a sales assistant over with two fingers. “I think my fiancée may be in need of some help,” he told her.

“Certainly, Sir,” she replied, crossing over to the changing cubicle. “May I help you, Madam?”

Alisha’s muttered reply filtered to his ears, and he allowed himself to laugh as he crossed one knee over the other, waiting patiently for her to extract herself from whatever hideous design she’d managed to trap herself in. She emerged a few minutes later with the assistant at her back, her cheeks flushed.

“Not suitable,” she informed him.

“Not a problem,” he replied. “Shall we go for something to eat, and think our options over? I know I could do with a bite.”

“Mmm, me too,” she agreed. “Ok,” she announced, turning to the assistant. “We’ll be back in a while.”

“Of course, Madam,” she answered, leaving the two of them.

“Honestly,” Alisha muttered. “Get me out of here.”

He bit back a grin as he slid an arm around her shoulders, guiding her out of the store and out into the massive complex.

“Is this one of yours?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Yes,” he replied. “This was one of our first to be completed. After this, we landed the contract to build three more, identical to this, in three different states.”

“Impressive,” she murmered. “So I guess you love what you do.”

He shrugged. “It’s been a lucrative market,” he answered. “But ever since Legolas arrived, I enjoy spending time at home, away from work. Before he was born, it was work seven days a week.”

“That’s a lot,” she commented, sliding her arm around his waist as they merged in amongst the crowds of shoppers.

“Not really. You’ve done the same for the last nine years,” he said.

“True. I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she said. “Maybe it’s different when you work in your home setting, as opposed to an office, or a building site.”

He tugged her tighter against him briefly to allow a youth on skates to sail past without bumping her. “Work is a discipline, which a lot of kids today don’t understand,” he said, resuming their normal gait. “I hear so much about them demanding their parents support them way past what would have been the expected age for the likes of ourselves.”

“Some kids don’t know how easy they have it,” she said. “Sometimes-oh my God…” She stopped.

“What?”

She pointed to a store window. “Look,” she breathed. “Look at that.”

He turned his eyes towards what had caught her attention. A beautiful white gown was displayed on a shop mannequin. It had thin shoulder straps which fell to a bodice which crossed over the mannequin’s bust. Fitted tightly at the waist, it flowed in sleek lines to the floor. Tiny light blue flowers were intricately embroidered along the bust and the hemline, with a few dotted here and there rising up from the hemline.

“Do you like it?” he asked, glancing down at her.

“I…I don’t know,” she said. “Do you?”

Inquisitive blue eyes met his, and he swallowed. “If you like it, we will buy it,” he said. “I think it would be ideal, although you should try it on before you decide for certain. Sometimes a garment will look completely different when you wear it.”

“Can I?” she asked excitedly.

His eyes softened as he gazed at her, an emotion appearing that she couldn’t identify.

“Alisha, this is _your_ wedding,” he said softly. “I know that it’s not ideal circumstances, but if you want to pull out all the stops to make it a fairy-tale wedding, then that’s what we’ll do. You don’t need to ask my permission.”

She looked away, then back at him. “I’d like to try it on,” she said.

He nodded, grinning. “Then if Madam would allow me,” he quipped.

“Oh don’t call me Madam,” she groaned. “I swear, if I hear that fucking word one more time this morning…”

He laughed as he led her into the store, where they were immediately pounced on by two over-eager sales women. He settled himself into a comfortable seat as she argued with them both that she wanted to try on the gown on display, not twenty seven others that they thought she might be more suited to. He listened to her pushing her point across, admiring her determination and her refusal to have her mind changed by someone who didn’t know what she liked or wanted.

“That one, please, or nothing at all,” she finally demanded.

“Felicity, please arrange for Madam to try on one of the FeyMire designs,” one of the women said to the other.

“No, not _one of,_ ” Alisha corrected. “ _That_ one.”

“But I truly think-“

“I think my fiancée knows what she likes,” Thranduil’s deep voice said, causing the sales woman to jump.

She spun round to find him looming over her. “Yes…of course,” she said, blushing. “Felicity?”

Felicity shot through to the back of the store, and he winked at Alisha as he sat back down again, crossing his legs as he waited. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, folding her arms.

The gown appeared a few minutes later, and she swiped it from the assistant as she headed towards the changing rooms, muttering under her breath. She quickly undressed and stepped into the dress, turning to look at her reflection.

She gasped.

The bride-to-be who stared back at her looked like someone else. The dress was stunning, and made her look taller than she already was. The fabric felt luxurious against her skin, and the cut was perfect. She twisted and turned, checking every angle.

She stopped, staring at herself in the mirror, as a heavy sadness settled over her.

This wasn’t how her wedding day was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be madly in love, excited about starting a new life together with a man who worshipped and adored her. She was supposed to be planning romantic weekends away, quiet nights in snuggled up watching movies together. Dinner parties for friends. Baby showers for the children she might have. Quiet, sensual moments with her husband, dreams and plans for the future.

Not adding the final touches to a cold, calculated business deal.

She swallowed, feeling the tell-take burn in her eyes of tears. No little girl grew up dreaming about her dream wedding being like this. The fairy tale didn’t exist; at least not in her world. And the chances were it never would. A forty year old woman starting out all over again wouldn’t have the same appeal as she would have at thirty, and that would halve her chances of finding someone who would love her the way she needed to be loved.

Angrily wiping her hands across her cheeks, she removed the dress and placed it back on the hanger, putting her own clothing back on. She exited the changing rooms, and Thranduil turned his head to say something as he heard her.

“Alisha, I-“ He stopped abruptly. “Have you been crying?” he said, rising to his feet in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I had a sneezing fit,” she replied. “Something in the changing room must have caught my nose and I started sneezing. I’m ok.”

He stared after her as she headed towards the sales women, his eyes narrowing.

She hadn’t sneezed.

The store had been deathly silent, as they were they only customers there, and the two assistants had fallen quiet after her demands that she try the dress of her choosing and not theirs.

He crossed the floor to stand behind her, one hand on her hip as he handed the saleswoman his credit card. Neither of them spoke as the purchase went through, and the gown was bagged for her. He took his card back and replaced it in his wallet, before taking her hand in his and leading her out of the store.

“What happened in there?” he asked.

“I told you, I had a sneezing fit,” she answered. “What did you think was wrong?”

He shook his head as they made their way through the crowds towards one of the restaurants on the upper floor. “I would have sworn something was wrong,” he said.

He stopped as he felt the slight tremble in the hand he held.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, for her ears only.

She swallowed and looked away, feeling her eyes well up again. He gently tipped her chin up with one finger, and waited.

“It’s crazy,” she burst out eventually with a nervous laugh. “Absolutely crazy.”

“Try me.”

“I guess it’s just hit me that the fairy tale that every little girl dreams of doesn’t exist,” she whispered. “It’s not real, and it never will be. By the time I can get married for real, I’ll be the other side of forty and the world will be such a different place from what it is now. My options will be significantly lower.”

He closed his eyes as he pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

Something twisted inside him.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Alisha,” he said, pulling back after a moment or two. “I can’t.”

“What d’you mean?”

“This…all of this…I can’t ask you to go through with it,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s asking far too much. I just can’t. You deserve better than this.” He took a step back from her, releasing his hold on her. “I’m going to call Gandalf.”

She watched as he took his phone from his pocket.

“I have one word to say to you,” she said, wiping her cheek to clear a stray tear.

He looked at her.

“Legolas.”

Pain sheared over his eyes, and her heart crumbled.

“We have to do this,” she said. “For him. He deserves this. And _he’s_ the important one in all of this, not me, not you, not us, _him.”_

He gazed at her, feeling his own heart constrict. He’d gone from hating her on sight after forming the wrong opinion of her, to planning a wedding with her within ten days. She’d proven him to be so far out of whack from his first impression of her, showing him a caring, devoted side, and someone who clearly had fallen in love with his son.

He looked at the floor, torn.

She stepped towards him, touching her hand to his chest. “We can’t back out now,” she said quietly. “He means too much to you, and to me as well. I can’t deny it, Thranduil, he’s an adorable wee boy and he’s completely stolen my heart. We have to do this for him.”

Ice blue eyes held hers. “It’s just…it’s fucked up, that’s what it is,” he said.

She nodded. “I know, But you know something? In ten or fifteen years’ time, whatever the time scale might be, we can both look back and say yeah, we did the right thing by him. And that’s what counts.”

He breathed deeply, considering his choices against what she’d said. She was right, and he knew it, but he also knew that what he was asking her to do was cruel.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered, shaking his head as he lowered it. “I just don’t know.”

Her hand slid down to grasp his. “Come on. At least keep this up while we get something to eat,” she said. “If I don’t have something, you’ll probably have to throw me over your shoulder to get me back to the car.”

He smiled wryly at her humour, leaning towards her on impulse and kissing her cheek. “You’re a special woman, Alisha,” he said, standing back to his full height. “I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, they broke the mould when they made me,” she quipped. “They took one look at me and said _fuck that!”_

He laughed, despite his low mood. “Oh hell,” he sighed, freeing his hand and wrapping it around her shoulders as they began to walk again. “What are we doing?”

“We’re doing the right thing for a child who needs us,” she told him. “And the sacrifice you’re making as his dad tells a lot about you. Hold on to that.”

“I’m not concerned with the sacrifice I’m making,” he replied. “I’m more concerned with the sacrifices _you’re_ making.”

“For what it’s worth, as far as job prospects go, I think that this is probably a damned good deal,” she said. “How many people can say they have a guaranteed term of employment, a great salary, and all the benefits that accompany it? Raising Legolas isn’t going to be a hard task; women raise their kids every day. We’ve been doing it for thousands and thousands of years, and most of the time, we’re actually pretty good at it.”

He chuckled as he guided her onto the escalator. “I dare say you have learned a thing or two throughout evolution,” he said.

“More than you could even dream of,” she shot back with a grin.

*****

Friday arrived.

Elrond’s twin sons, Dan and Elro, were chasing Thranduil’s two cats around the house, causing carnage in the process. His daughter, Arwen, chose to spend her time with Alisha, and her father had spent the last hour in deep discussion with Thranduil in his study on the ground floor.

“Are you nervous?” Arwen asked, applying a soft blue shimmery eyeshadow to Alisha’s upper eyelids.

She smiled. “No, not really,” she replied. “Although I guess every woman feels butterflies on her wedding day.” She knew that Elrond’s children knew nothing of the arrangement, assuming that the upcoming marriage was as real as anyone else’s.

“I wonder what I’ll be like on my wedding day,” she said.

“Do you have someone in mind?”

Arwen smiled and blushed. “I’ve been seeing someone for the last year, although my father doesn’t know it’s been quite that long, or that it’s as serious as it is.”

“Mmm…if it’s as serious as it sounds, it looks like you might have to ‘fess up,” Alisha said.

The two boys shot past the open door in a flurry of screeching and yelling, chasing the two cats who were more agile on four paws and more adept at avoiding both males who were in hot pursuit.

“I’m not sure how my father feels about him,” she said, glancing in the direction of her boisterous brothers. “He acts like everything’s ok when Aragorn comes round to our house, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.”

The bride nodded. “Sometimes dads do that,” she replied, her mind going to Thranduil and his situation with Legolas. If ever there was a protective parent, he was definitely it. “They don’t share their thoughts and feelings the way us women do. I don’t think they know how, to be honest.”

She started to laugh, and Arwen laughed with her. She rose to her feet and picked up her black liquid eyeliner, sweeping dark lines over her upper eyelashes.

“Thranduil is going to fall at your feet,” Arwen said softly, watching her.

Alisha met her gaze in the reflection of the mirror and smiled, hiding her heartache. He would never fall at anyone’s feet, and no-one would ever fall at her feet. Applying her mascara in a finishing touch, both women turned as a gentle knock sounded on the door.

“Your husband wishes for you to have this,” Elrond announced, stepping towards them. He held a small box in his hand, covered in reflective gold paper and wrapped with a metallic gold bow.

Glancing at him in curiosity, she slowly unwrapped it, revealing a beautiful pair of diamond stud earrings.

Arwen gasped. “Oh my – they’re beautiful!” she said in wonder.

Alisha blinked emotional tears away as she put them in her ears, watching the sunlight sparkle off them in a rainbow of colours. Turning back to Elrond, she smiled at him. “Shall we?”

He bowed his head, holding his arm out for her, and she took it as they walked towards the doorway.

“Alisha, don’t you have any flowers?” Arwen asked, glancing around looking for a bouquet.

She shook her head. “I’ve chosen not to carry flowers,” she replied. “I’m going to carry something much more special.”

Elrond smiled enigmatically as they left the room, to be met by high-pitched giggles and scampering feet.

“Hey, beautiful boy!” Alisha laughed, stooping down to lift him onto her hip. “Are we ready to surprise daddy?”

“Daddy,” he nodded.

Arwen’s eyes filled with happy tears as she watched them, and shook herself back to awareness so she could follow.

Standing in front of the alter under the huge stained glass window, Thranduil had his back to the door, his head down and his hands held together in front of him. Slight murmering drew his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder.

His heart stopped as he spun round.

Alisha was walking down the aisle towards him, wearing the gown she’d chosen a few days previously. It fitted her like a dream, and she looked every inch the radiant bride. Her hair was swept up into an intricate braid that twisted up on top of her head, and her makeup was flawless. What made his heart miss a few beats was the fact that she’d forgone the tradition of carrying a bouquet, and instead, carried his child.

Legolas was settled comfortably on her left hip, dressed in a specially-made suit of powder blue trousers and waistcoat, a little white shirt and a carnation on his lapel. He had a wide grin on his face, lapping up the attention he was receiving.

Thranduil swallowed, inhaling deeply as they approached him.

Something twisted inside him.

Alisha stopped in front of him, allowing her right arm to slide from Elrond’s. Thranduil leaned over to kiss Legolas’s cheek, stepping back to let his godfather take him to the side. The bride and groom faced each other.

Thranduil had chosen a dark grey suit, a white shirt, and the customary button-hole flower. His long blonde hair hung over his shoulders; the sun streaming in through the stained glass window lighting it with an ethereal touch.

He took both her hands in his, his eyes never leaving hers.

The preacher began to speak, addressing the select crowd who were present. Alisha heard very little of his speech; his words drowned out by the thundering in her ears of her increased blood flow. Her heart thumped hard, and she breathed deeply to calm her nerves.

Thranduil’s steady gaze seemed to help settle her, as she focused on the ice blue eyes that held hers in what seemed to be a patient, peaceful hold.

“Do you, Thranduil Oropherion, take this woman, Alisha Amanda Thomas, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the preacher asked, drawing her back to reality. “To love and to honour her, to cherish and protect her, in sickness and in health?”

Thranduil smiled. “I do,” he answered.

Something twisted inside her.

“And do you, Alisha Amanda Thomas, take this man, Thranduil Oropherion, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to honour him, to cherish and protect him, in sickness and in health?”

Her heart hammered.

Her blood whooshed in her ears as it sped around her body.

His eyes continued to hold hers in the invisible grip he had.

“I do,” she said.

 “Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the preacher concluded. He looked towards Thranduil. “You may now kiss the bride.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned down, brushing his mouth gently over hers. Their guests burst into rounds of cheers and applause as he lifted back, and her cheeks flushed deep pink.

She’d done it.

But she wished with everything in her that she hadn’t.


	10. Chapter 10

** CHAPTER TEN **

****

The remainder of the day passed in a chaotic blur and whirl of activity as the celebrations swept the couple along. Alisha fell into a bubble of silence after a while, emerging only to respond politely when drawn into conversation, whereas Thranduil appeared to merge seamlessly with their guests.

After a massive meal, they wound their way through the well-wishers and headed out for the airport, where their seats aboard a small private jet awaited them.

She settled into her window seat, waiting patiently for take-off.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, glancing at her as he stretched his long legs out into the aisle.

She smiled at him. “Of course.”

“You seem a little withdrawn,” he murmered, and lifted her hand closest to him, which happened to be her left one. The lights in the aircraft sparkled off the white gold wedding band, reflecting off the polished metal and the diamonds. “I apologise.”

“What for?” she asked curiously.

“Our kiss,” he replied, lowering her hand again and staring forwards. “I believe I overstepped the mark, but I felt that our guests expected us to kiss after our vows.”

“Oh don’t be crazy!” she scoffed. “Of course they expected it! It’s the normal done thing at a wedding, and we’d have raised a few questions if we hadn’t. No, stop thinking like that. It’s fine, honestly. I’m just pretty worn out, that’s all. I didn’t expect today to be quite as tiring to be honest.”

“It _is_ quite overwhelming,” he agreed. “Personally, I’m looking forward to settling down for the night and going to sleep.”

She laughed, glancing out of the window as the plane began taxiing towards the runway. “How romantic are we? Our first night as a married couple and we’re desperate to go unconscious.”

Grinning, he twisted his fingers through hers as the stewardess passed, giving them a smile. He released her again once she’d passed. “I think a long soak in a hot bath would just fit the bill,” he murmered. “I can’t believe myself how tired I am.”

“Well, our flight isn’t a long one, so we should be bedded down by midnight, hopefully,” she replied. “I feel like today has lasted for about four days or something; I can’t remember the last time I was this worn out.”

“I think it is more mentally tiring than physical,” he said, stifling a yawn. “It’s been a stressful few days, but soon we should be able to get back into some sort of routine.”

She murmered her agreement, looking out of the window at her side as the aircraft picked up speed and lifted off the runway.

Their honeymoon, or more like a short break away, had been planned and arranged by Elrond, who had insisted the couple would need to disappear for at least two or three days to give the impression of happily married newlyweds following tradition. Thranduil had agreed, giving his consent for him to book them into a hotel on the coast for two nights. The excuse about having to return for Legolas and work would be sufficient to answer any possible questions as to why they hadn’t gone away for a longer period of time.

The flight itself was just short of an hour, and before Alisha knew it they were headed towards the hotel in a limousine. Her husband dutifully held hands with her or put his arm around her the entire journey, and to a casual observer they appeared like a couple in love.

“Oh wow…rest at last,” Thranduil said with a laugh, tossing his holdall onto the massive bed that dominated the room. He sank down onto it, throwing his weight backwards so he lay flat looking at the ceiling.

She laughed, setting her bag on the floor and kicking her sneakers off. After spending the entire day in heels, she had followed his thoughtful suggestion that they dress casual for the remainder of the day. Thanking the Gods for his advice, she went through to the en suite bathroom to wash her hands. “Oh wow…look at this!” she cried in delight.

“I don’t think I can move,” he grumbled, hoisting himself up onto his elbows. He arched an eyebrow at her as she appeared in the bathroom doorway. “What is it?”

“Just come and look,” she gushed, beckoning him over.

He grunted in mock exasperation and rose to his feet, going to see what she was so excited about. The bathroom had a large round tub set into the floor, with marble-like rocks set around the edge. An array of candles were spread out along the three small steps that led down into the bath, and more were spread out along the units where the sink and towels were. A large bucket of ice was home to a massive bottle of champagne, next to which sat two crystal flutes. Rose petals were scattered around on the tiled floor.

He smiled. “It’s definitely up there with romantic notions,” he acknowledged. “I suppose this is what you get when you book the honeymoon suite.”

“It’s gorgeous,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Imagine just relaxing in there with all those candles.”

He turned away. “Are you hungry?” he asked over his shoulder as he went back to the bedroom. “I can call the front desk if you are.”

“No, I’m stuffed,” she replied, quickly washing and drying her hands. “I think I ate enough for three people at our dinner. I probably won’t eat anything for about a week.”

He laughed, kicking his shoes off and lying back on the bed to switch the tv on.

“Damn…that feels _sooo_ good,” she commented as she tugged the pins from her hair and allowing the black mane to cascade down her back. “I forget how heavy my hair is until I wear it up high like that.”

He smiled. “You could have worn it down if it causes you discomfort,” he told her.

She murmered in agreement as she sank down onto the edge of the bed and lifted her bag. “I suppose I just wanted to have everything look perfect,” she answered. “So…did the dress pass the muster test?”

“Of course it did,” he said. “Why wouldn’t it? I trust your judgement, and you liked it when you saw it. I must say though…” He trailed off and stopped, and she turned to look at him. “I really like how you carried Legolas instead of a bouquet.”

She smiled. “I thought it would be more fitting,” she told him. “And besides, he’s just as involved in this as we are – probably more when I think about it.”

“You both looked amazing,” he said. “Thankyou for doing that with him; it was a lovely touch.”

She grinned. “I think he enjoyed being the centre of attention, didn’t he? And his suit was so cute. He seemed to really enjoy himself.”

“Yes – Elrond will have his hands full until we return I think,” he laughed. “Legolas was excited and running riot all day. He’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure.”

She glanced past him. “Speaking of sleeping…”

He followed her gaze, then looked back at her. “There is a sofa through in the lounge,” he told her. “I will sleep there.”

“You can’t,” she said with a frown. “You’re what…six feet three?!”

“Six feet five,” he corrected.

“Uh right…you’ll fall off the damned thing,” she told him. “I can sleep there. I’m a lot smaller than you. You’d never fit on it.”

He regarded her for a few moments. “Or we could be adults about it,” he suggested. “It’s a huge bed. There is a multitude of pillows that we could use as a wall down the middle. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

She swallowed, forcing a smile. “I’m ok with that,” she replied. “Although to be honest, I could crash on the floor right now and I wouldn’t mind.”

He laughed, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up. “I’d sleep on the floor myself before I allowed a female to do so,” he told her, grabbing his holdall. “Especially if that female is my wife.” He winked at her as he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her staring at her hands.

*****

“Oh dear Goddddd,” she grunted, yanking a pillow over her head. “Leave me alonnne!”

Thranduil laughed, bouncing on the bed. “No. Come on lazybones, get up. The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day.”

“I fucking hate days,” she grumbled, her voice muffled. “Leave me alone.”

“No. Get up.”

“Thranduil!” A scream left her as the quilt disappeared and was tossed unceremoniously to the bottom of the bed. “Oh-my-God-I-hate-you!”

He chuckled, sliding out of the way as she shot up into a sitting position.

“How the hell are you showered and dressed at this unholy hour?” she demanded, yanking hair out of her eyes. “This is fucking _unbelievable._ ”

His grin widened. “The day is ours to explore!” he told her cheerfully. “We can see all the tourist attractions, take lots of photos for our adoring friends to mush over when we return, and generally have a relaxing day.”

The look she gave him would have floored a heavyweight boxer. He merely attempted to straighten his mouth, failing miserably.

“Make me a coffee, please,” she sighed, shuffling to the edge of the bed. “I hate you so much for this. I really do. I hate you.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he went through to prepare her requested beverage. She emerged a short while later, showered and dressed, but didn’t speak a lot until she’d had her coffee.

Their first complete day as husband and wife turned out to be more pleasant that she’d thought it would be. They visited the massive art gallery-come-museum, set in an impressive gothic-style building on the outskirts of the city. Thranduil surprised her with his knowledge, although when she thought about it, she realised he was more educated than he’d made her aware. Lunch was take-out from a quaint restaurant, which they sat under the trees in the park to eat, watching skateboarders, dog-walkers, joggers, and people going about their day.

Alisha found herself relaxed and enjoying herself, much to her surprise.

In the afternoon they joined a guided tour around a historic battle site, after which they both admitted they would have loved were it not for the guide’s boring, monotone babbling throughout. Lots of photos were snapped, and the day wound down with a meal in a top class restaurant overlooking the beach.

“So…any regrets, Mrs Oropherion?” Thranduil asked, a sparkle in his eye as he took a drink of his wine.

“About what? Us?” she asked, and started to laugh. “No. Should there be?”

He lifted one eyebrow briefly but didn’t answer. “I dare say we have enough pictures to keep everyone happy when we get home,” he said instead. “My phone must be ready to burst or go into meltdown.”

“At least it’ll give everyone something to talk about,” she remarked. “I wonder how the wee man is? Have you called him?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I called when you were in the queue for the ladies’ room. Elrond assures me that he’s absolutely fine, and is entertaining the twins. He also told me that your car is being delivered tomorrow.”

She stopped chewing. “I didn’t order a car.”

He smiled enigmatically. “I know. But I saw you looking at an Audi on the internet the other day. But I had a look at it after you went to bed, and to be honest, it’s not the safest car you could have for yourself and Legolas. So…” He hesitated. “I went ahead and bought you a car. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” she said. “I appreciate your thoughts on safety and whatnot. I’m not all that up on what’s safe and what isn’t, and where the little one is concerned, I really should be. So what did you pick?”

“A Range Rover,” he answered.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Thranduil…they’re like tanks! It’ll be like driving the living room around!”

He laughed. “It’s a little smaller than mine, so you have no need to worry,” he assured her. “I can stay with you the first few times you take it out, if you want, to help you get used to it.”

“I might well take you up on that,” she said. “Your car is massive.”

“It’s not that big once you get used to it, and besides, your car is quite a bit smaller,” he reassured her. “But if you can’t settle with it, or you aren’t happy with it, we can always replace it with a different one.”

“No, no – it’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m actually glad you looked into the safety thing, as like I said, I’m clueless when it comes to that aspect. You saw my old banger.” Her old car had remained parked outside Ted’s house.

“Yes, and that concerns me considerably,” he told her. “That thing is a death-trap. It’s an accident waiting to happen. I would rather you didn’t drive it, and I do not want my son in it either…at the risk of pissing you off.” He eyed her warily.

She laughed. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I know it’s on its last legs, but I couldn’t upgrade. I wouldn’t be happy having the wee one travelling in it either, truth be told.”

“Try this,” he said, changing topics suddenly as he wound some pasta around his fork. “It’s delicious.”

She leaned over and took the mouthful, her eyes widening in surprise as the flavours of the sauce exploded in her mouth. “Oh wow…that’s amazing! I wonder if I can make this…”

“I can cook, and I do enough to get by, but it’s not my favourite pastime,” he said, going back to eating. “I had a cook for a while, but her meals weren’t captivating in the slightest, so I let her go.”

She frowned as she dug into her chilli. “Try this,” she said, and held her fork towards him. “I really think that cooking is like an art, and is something that you should enjoy doing if you’re going to be serious about it. I used to love cooking, but it kind of slid to one side while I was looking after-“  She stopped.

He took the food she offered, his eyes meeting hers. “You _can_ say his name,” he told her. “After all, he didn’t harm you during your time working for him.”

“This is true, and something I’ll be eternally grateful for,” she acknowledged. “I don’t want to talk about him, Thranduil. This isn’t a conventional honeymoon in any shape or form, but I really don’t want to bring his name up and spoil the moment.”

He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Are you looking forward to going home tomorrow?”

“I’ve missed Legolas,” she admitted with a smile. “It’s amazing how attached I’ve become to him after such a short time. He’s just adorable.”

A full smile lifted his mouth. “Yes…he has a certain charm about him,” he agreed. “I’ve no doubt that come his teenage years, I’ll be assisting him in avoiding phone calls and unwelcome house visits from school girls.”

She laughed. “Oh that’s a given,” she said. “I’m sure his charm will endear him to pretty much all of the girls.”

Thranduil pushed his plate to one side. “I’m done,” he said. “That was outstanding.”

She nodded. “I’m almost there as well. I’ll probably sleep right through until tomorrow while this lot settles.”

“I noticed you woke up several times through the night last night,” he said with a slight frown. “Any particular reason?”

“Force of habit,” she replied, taking a drink of her wine. “I used to have to go and check on Ted every two hours through the night, and sometimes he’d call in between that as well. I just got used to short bursts of sleep, and find it hard to sleep for any set length of time now.”

“Do you think it might have been too much to ask one person to do?” he asked. “Twenty four hours would’ve been better split between at least two people, to halve the workload.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “But I was used to him and what he needed, and he was used to me. He never mentioned hiring someone else to share the shift – I was there round the clock, seven days a week.”

The thought drifted through his mind that she was taking on an almost identical role looking after Legolas, but he pushed it firmly aside and didn’t voice it. The pay and conditions were a massive improvement on her previous job, and this time around she would have the freedom to come and go as she chose.

“Shall we settle the bill and head back to the hotel?” he asked.

“Fine by me,” she replied. “I have a suggestion.”

He tipped his head towards the waiter, who nodded and disappeared briefly.

“How about I pay for this from my first wage?”

“Indeed you will not,” he retorted. “Any time we go somewhere, you will _not_ be paying. And there is no room for argument.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Keep your hair on, it was just a suggestion,” she laughed.

“And I was just giving you a reply,” he smiled sweetly, making her laugh more.

The waiter appeared with the bill, which he settled and then rose to his feet, holding his hand out for hers. She slid her hand into his automatically, standing and accompanying him out of the restaurant.

*****

“Well, you two look relaxed and ready to re-join the rat race,” Elrond grinned, leaping to the side as Legolas charged towards his father. “The break away must have done both of you the world of good.”

“It did,” Thranduil replied, swiftly lifting his wriggling, laughing bundle up onto his hip and kissing his chubby cheek. “Now all the stress from the wedding is over, we can hopefully settle into some sort of normality, and get into a routine of sorts.”

Alisha nodded in agreement. “I’ll have to bring the rest of my clothes and whatnot from the old house at some point,” she said. “But there’s no rush for that. I have enough at your place to keep me going.”

“Our place,” he corrected. “We can set aside a long weekend or something a little further down the line, and finish up at the house. I’m thinking either close it up for a year until I can sell it, or rent it out.”

“That sounds like a more feasible idea,” Elrond commented. “Make the house earn an income instead of lying empty.”

“Like I need the income,” he grunted. “Legolas – I will cut my hair if you insist of chewing it all the time.” He patiently unravelled lengths of his hair from his son’s fists.

“So donate the income to a worthwhile cause,” his business partner suggested. “Do not cut your nose off to spite your face, my friend.”

“I will give it some thought,” he replied. “Shall we head off?” He glanced at Alisha.

“Yes. I’d like to get settled,” she answered. “Give me a hug, wee man.”

Legolas obligingly held his arms out, giggling all the more as his father handed him over. “Eesha!” he yelled. “Eesha!”

“Aaa-lisha,” she laughed.

“Eesha,” he agreed with a solemn nod.

Thranduil shook his head. “Ok, thankyou as always, Elrond,” he said, turning his attention back to the other man. “I’ll be in the office as usual tomorrow.”

“Take your time,” he replied casually. “The business can survive for a few more days if you want to chill out for a while.”

“I want to make some headway on the design for the Barton project, and push our ideas forward at the next meeting,” he said. “If we don’t move soon, they might consider other companies, and it’s too lucrative a contract to lose.”

“We’ll get onto it, don’t worry,” Elrond assured him. “Concentrate on your family, and come back on Wednesday. That’s an order.”

Alisha laughed at the expression on Thranduil’s face. “Ok guys, I’m out of here,” she said. “I’m not getting involved in this; it’s too technical for me. I’ll settle Leggy in the car.”

She turned and left them, but he followed at her back, followed in turn by Elrond. They settled Legolas securely into his car seat, and bid the other man farewell as they climbed in.

“He appears anxious for me to delay returning to work,” he murmered as he pulled out of the driveway. “He’s up to something.”

“Like what?” she questioned with a frown.

“Oh, nothing untoward,” he assured her. “He’s been saying for years that I do not take enough personal time. This, unfortunately, has fallen right into his hands, and he’s going to make the most out of it.”

“Maybe he just wants to see you relax like everyone else, rather than putting in eighteen hour days all the time,” she remarked. Snuggling back against her seat, she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing at her briefly.

“Mm-hmm,” she answered. “It’ll be nice to get to your house though, and try to settle a bit.”

“Alisha, there is one thing that you must be wary of,” he said. “It is not _my_ house. It’s _our_ house. You cannot slip up on that, at any time. A simple slip of the tongue could cause everything to crash around us.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“I don’t mean to berate you, God no. I just don’t want you to have everything divided up in your mind, like this is mine and that’s yours. You have to treat everything as joint, from now on.”

“I get you,” she told him. “It’s just going to take a bit of getting used to, that’s all. I came into this job with nothing, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember,” he said, a dark undercurrent to his voice.

She looked over at him, frowning. “What does that mean?”

He took a deep breath. “It means that Ted paid you next to nothing and expected your soul in return,” he said. “He didn’t allow you time to yourself, time to do what _you_ wanted to do, to pursue outside interests. He didn’t allow you to be you.”

“I knew what I was taking on when I accepted the job,” she pointed out. “And d’you know what? For all that he might have been, unknown to me at the time, I know I did a good job. I gave everything I had, and I honestly feel that he couldn’t have had better care.”

He nodded. “I know that,” he admitted softly. “I saw the care you gave him, and it was only for the last few hours of his life.” He glanced at Legolas in the rear view mirror as he drove. The little one was playing happily with a textured fabric book, chattering away to himself. “And for all that I hated his guts – and still do – I know that he had the best care out there. I’m not criticising your work, Alisha; far from it. I’m merely pointing out that he didn’t allow you to have a life.”

She shrugged. “The nature of the beast, I suppose,” she murmered. “Most patients are all hands-on as they decline through age and health conditions. It’s my job to make sure they can still get the best out of life, and be as comfortable and pain-free as possible.”

“Which is why I know you’re the right choice for this job,” he told her. “I know within myself that you’ll be devoted to my child, and for me, that is the most important aspect of it. Everything else falls by the wayside – he is top priority. Of course you’ll have your free time and you can do what you wish with that free time. That will be the biggest difference in this employment. Plus you’ll be paid what you deserve to be paid.”

She laughed. “I hardly think I’m worth five grand a month!”

“Probably that, and a whole lot more,” he told her, shooting her a sideways glance as he turned off the freeway.

She didn’t reply.


	11. Chapter 11

** CHAPTER ELEVEN **

****

Life in the Oropherion household soon settled into a comfortable routine, and for the most, Alisha didn’t feel like it was work. Legolas was a fairly early riser, waking up at around seven o’clock in the mornings, and she took care of his breakfast as Thranduil was normally preparing for work. She’d got into the habit of having his breakfast ready for him by the time he’d emerged from the shower, until he’d put a stop to it and told her she wasn’t his personal slave.

Arguing that she was making two breakfasts anyway and a third wasn’t making that much of a difference, he’d relented, with the condition that he make the morning meal on the weekends or if he was working from home.

The hearing with the judge had taken place the week after their honeymoon. The cousin of Legolas’s mother had argued until she was blue in the face that the only reason the marriage had taken place was to stop her from being awarded custody. Gandalf had stepped up and played his corner, arguing that why would anyone in this day and age consider such a preposterous idea when Thranduil easily had enough wealth to offer to buy the couple off? He’d produced photos from both the wedding and the break afterwards, and Alisha had to admit – they _did_ make a convincing couple. Several shots had them gazing into each others’ eyes, and to anyone on the outside looking in, they looked very much in love.

She’d looked away as her heart had twisted a little inside, knowing she’d never have that.

The judge had remained sceptical, and ordered another hearing in four weeks’ time, upon which he would be doing some investigating of his own.

Thranduil had wasted no time in moving some of her clothes and personal belongings into his room, in case Child Services decided to drop by unannounced. Various items of make-up were scattered on the otherwise pristine unit in his en suite bathroom, and different items which would indicate that she indeed share his bed and personal space.

Gandalf had heartily approved of this idea, going as far as to suggest a space in the chest of drawers for her underwear.

Alisha had blushed profusely at his thinking, much to Thranduil’s amusement. He’d commented something along the lines of _everybody wears it, what’s the problem?_ To which she’d refused to respond.

He’d done it anyway.

Otherwise, life at home kept her busy. She cooked and cleaned, and spent countless hours playing and teaching Legolas, who grew more and more attached to her. Many evenings his father would come home to find her stirring something on the stove, with his offspring planted firmly on her hip and his little arms around her neck as he babbled nonsense to her. Or she’d be folding laundry and he’d be cross-legged on the floor at her feet, attempting to fold tea towels and small items.

The picture was alarmingly heart-warming to him, and he didn’t like it.

He’d bordered on being a loner his entire adult life, only sharing his space when Legolas had been born. Alisha had settled into his comfortable groove without causing so much as a ripple, and that unnerved him a great deal. Having her there allowed him time to work more from home, or to do things which he wanted to do, like working out, or other interests that he’d never had much time for before.

Meal times were a riot.

She’d insisted they eat together as a family, and not separately in front of the television. Her logic had been that a knock could come at the door at any time, and they had to keep up the pretence. He’d agreed, and secretly enjoyed their family time. Legolas was at the stage where he was more interested in throwing his food than eating it, and she displayed endless patience encouraging the boy to eat instead of using the food as missiles.

Three weeks into their marriage, she was faced with a situation she hadn’t expected.

Her painkillers had run out, and she groaned in frustration after bundling Legolas into the car seat and turning the key in her car’s ignition. There wasn’t enough gas to get to the drugstore and back, and she couldn’t remember the pin number of the credit card Thranduil had given her.

“What are we gonna do, Leggy?” she asked the toddler, who bounced in his seat enthusiastically.

“Eesha walk!” he demanded.

She snorted. “It’s too far for your little legs, wee man,” she said. “And I don’t know where your daddy put your stroller the other day.  Shall we go on the bus?”

Big blue eyes blinked at her in the rear view mirror. “Bus,” he agreed. “Bus.”

She hauled herself back out of the vehicle and lifted him from the back seat, slamming the door. Knowing she had enough cash on her to make the fare, she knew at least she could still reach the store for her much-needed pain relief.

Step-mother and step-son laughed and sang nonsense songs as she carried him away from the property and walked the quarter mile or so to the bus stop. The weather was gorgeous, with the sun pleasantly warm and flowers in full bloom wherever she looked.

Legolas thrived on the bus as they travelled towards the shopping centre. Everything fascinated him, and she noticed a few of the other commuters grinning discreetly at his excited yells as different things caught his eye. He spent most of the ride standing on her thighs with her arms like steel around him, his little hands pressed against the window as he gazed out. She wondered briefly what the world looked like through his young eyes, and the thought made her smile.

“Shall we walk through the park?” she suggested, alighting the vehicle with a thanks to the driver. “We can see if the ducks are around.”

“Ducks!” he cheered. “Wanna see ducks!”

“Ok,” she laughed. “Let’s go.”

Holding her hand, he toddled along at her side, and she deliberately slowed her steps so he didn’t have to run to keep up. Letting him set the pace would give him a sense of self-awareness, and she wanted to encourage that. They spent over half an hour in the park, where she squatted down beside him and pointed out different things. He was fascinated mostly by the teenagers who flew past on roller-blades, wanting to tear off after them. The ducks were another focus point, and she let his hand go to give him some freedom, to which he hurtled around with his arms flapping like wings.

“Eesha! ‘Ook! I’m a duck!” he yelled.

“And what a cute duck you are,” she told him, grabbing him as he shot past. “C’mon my wee Prince; we need to head over to the store.”

“Candy,” he said immediately, locking his arms around her neck as he settled onto her hip once more.

She laughed. “You’re a menace,” she told him. The store was just across the road in the complex, so it wouldn’t take her too long to get there.

Unfortunately, she acquired a follower.

“Mrs Oropherion!” a voice called, and she turned to see who had addressed her.

A man approached her, roughly late twenties, with a camera.

“Mrs Oropherion? Congratulations on your wedding,” he told her with a smile. “Mind if I take some pictures?”

She frowned. “Yes, I mind,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I work freelance,” he told her.

“A reporter,” she muttered. “Go away. I’m not interested.” She turned her back and headed for the pedestrian crossing.

“There are rumours that you only married because of the upcoming custody case,” he pushed, following close behind her. “Do you have anything to comment on that?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she snapped.

“But Mrs Oropherion, you must realise how damning accusations like that can be,” he insisted. “Your husband could lose custody of his son if it’s proven to be true.”

“Get lost,” she retorted.

“How about a photo of you and the Oropherion heir?” he said, changing tactic. “It‘d look great in court – mother and son bonding.”

She flipped around partway across the road and pulled Legolas to her front, tucking his face in against her chest. “Leave us alone!”

“Come on, one picture won’t hurt,” he said. “Or do you have something to hide?”

She ignored him, heading the rest of the way across the street towards the complex. He stayed stuck to her, refusing to take the hint.

Legolas sensed her mood change, and was becoming distressed. He clutched at her hair, his face buried against her. “Want daddy,” he mumbled in to her.

She gently rubbed his back as she walked, quickening her pace. “We’ll see daddy soon,” she promised.

“How will the child feel about the supposed arranged marriage?” the man questioned. “What happens when he reaches an age where he’ll want to know the truth about your marriage?”

She continued to ignore him.

Not put off in the slightest, he kept going. “This looks like you definitely have something to hide,” he went on. “At least let me take a picture of you both.”

Alisha was becoming increasingly stressed. She whipped her head around, looking for a way to lose him. The child in her arms was her main concern, and she didn’t want him involved in anything detrimental.

The reporter grabbed her upper arm, making her gasp in pain.

“Let me go!” she yelled. “Get off me!”

“Maybe you and Oropherion are well-suited to one another,” he hissed, leaning in close to her as she wriggled to try and break free. His fingers dug painfully into the soft flesh of her arm. “He’s an arrogant snob too. Never takes the time to have his picture taken.”

A squeal of tyres caught their attention. A huge black Range Rover sped down upon them, coming to a shuddering emergency stop just feet from them. The driver’s door flew open and Thranduil emerged.

Alisha’s heart thudded in panic.

He was _furious_ as he marched towards them.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife!” he roared, grabbing the reporter by the front of his shirt and throwing him away from her.

“I’ll have you for assault!” he yelled, stumbling to regain his footing.

“And I’ll counteract that with both assault and intimidation!” he snapped. “My dash-cam clearly shows you manhandling her!”

“I only wanted a photo!” he shouted. “But the snotty bitch won’t give me one!”

“I’ll give you more than a damned photo if you go near her or my son again!” Thranduil snarled. “Stay the hell away from them!”

The reporter backed off, muttering under his breath.

Thranduil turned to Alisha, who was shaking as she held on to Legolas. “Are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m ok,” she said.

“You’re shaking,” he said. “Here…give Legolas to me. I’m taking you both home.”

“I can’t,” she told him. “I need to pick up my medication.”

“I already have it,” he replied, crossing back to the car and settling Legolas into the back. “I heard you on the telephone ordering it the day before yesterday, so I picked it up for you while I was out of the office.”

“Thankyou,” she murmered.

He looked back at her once his child was safe and secure. Her shoulders sagged, and her head was down. Her face was pale, and she looked shaken.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding his arms out.

She slowly went to him, and he wrapped her in a close hug.

“He can take his damned picture now,” he muttered. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. I should have warned you that this might happen.”

She sniffed and closed her eyes, enjoying the security in his arms for the fleeting moment. “I don’t know where he came from,” she said quietly. “I took Legolas to the park and we had a great time. Then he appeared from nowhere as we were leaving to head for the store.”

“The media are vultures,” he told her, gently rubbing her back in the same way that she’d done to comfort his son just a few minutes earlier. “Do you need anything else before we go home?”

She shook her head as she pulled away from him. “No. I just needed my medication, that was all.”

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” he said, his tone gentle. His eyes hardened as he caught sight of the angry red finger marks on her upper arm, revealed by the sleeveless top she had put on that morning. “Did he do that?” he demanded.

She nodded, self-consciously rubbing her sore flesh.

His jaw clenched in anger, and he guided her into the passenger seat of the SUV. Throwing himself into the driver’s seat, he shook his head as he fastened his seat belt. “I was going to tell you when I got home tonight that news of our wedding has made the newspapers,” he said. “I’ve been dodging phone calls all morning from nosey reporters wanting exclusive interviews.”

“I don’t read the papers,” she murmered, gazing out of the side window as they left the parking lot.

“Neither do I, much,” he admitted. “Unfortunately I make headlines though; they have their nose into everything Elrond or myself do. I suppose that’s the downside of having successfully built up a massive company and earning a good living from it.”

“He knows about the custody case,” she said. “He mentioned rumours that this is a scam marriage to gain leverage with it.”

He snorted in disgust. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I told him I wasn’t interested in talking to him, and didn’t answer any of his questions,” she answered.

“Good girl,” he said with a determined nod. “Whatever you said would have been twisted and distorted to suit him either way. You did well, Alisha.”

She clasped her hands together in her lap, determined to stop the tremor that shuddered through them. “Where did you spring from anyway?” she asked curiously. “You jumped out of the car like a raging bull on a mission.”

“I was,” he replied. “I’d stopped off to collect your medication and was heading out of the parking lot when I saw my wife and child being accosted by a low-life, no-good piece of shit.”

“Thanks for stopping,” she said quietly.

He glanced at her in surprise. “I wouldn’t leave you to fend for yourself,” he told her. “People like him need a good punch in the mouth. He knew he was intimidating you, which is bad and bad enough, but when you have a small child with you? That’s just deplorable.”

The scenery swept past as he accelerated through the traffic.

“We’re lucky you were passing,” she said.

“Where’s your car?” he asked suddenly, as he remembered he’d bought her one.

“At the house,” she told him. “There wasn’t enough gas to get us to the store and back, so we took the bus.”

“And you couldn’t have filled the tank while you were out?”

“I didn’t have enough cash for that.”

“I gave you a credit card when we came back from our break away,” he reminded her.

“I couldn’t remember the number,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Oh Alisha,” he groaned. “You should have called me! Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you at work. I know you’re busy,” she replied. “You don’t need me on the phone with stupid questions.”

He grunted in exasperation, but at the situation rather than at her. “That’s what I’m there for,” he emphasised. “You can call me _any_ time. You can come by the office any time, for any reason. You’re not restricted to the house, Alisha. Don’t ever think that.”

“I didn’t,” she told him. “I just didn’t want to annoy you.”

He lapsed into silence as they drove towards the safety of home. “I’m sorry that happened back there,” he said as he stopped the car in their driveway.

She glanced over, his blue eyes filled with regret as he gazed at her.

Something twisted inside her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “It was just one of those things, I suppose. I’ll live, and Legolas is fine. He’s all that matters.”

“You matter too. You didn’t get into this for that sort of carry on,” he said, climbing out of his side. Rounding the car, he opened her door for her and moved to lift his child from the back. “If it makes you more comfortable, I can always be with you if you want to go anywhere. The option is there if you need it.”

She smiled. “Thankyou,” she replied. “Hopefully everything will die down and they’ll get bored and move on to something else.”

He didn’t answer as he followed her up the steps into the house. Legolas babbled happily as he clung to him, contented to be with his father. His earlier upset had vanished the moment he’d taken him in his arms.

*****

Blinking in the darkness, Thranduil wondered what had woken him. The air was still around him, and he could hear Legolas snoring softly through the baby monitor placed next to his bed in his room. He lay still for a few moments, unsettled.

Throwing back the quilt, he swung himself out of bed and padded silently across the carpet. Pulling his door further open, he stood in the hallway and listened.

Silence.

He frowned.

Something had definitely pulled him from a deep sleep. He checked Legolas, who was settled and sound asleep. Alisha’s door lay on the other side of his son’s, so the child’s room was between them. Knocking gently on the door, he waited.

“Alisha?”

No response.

He cracked it open a little, peering round. The bed was empty.

He took a deep breath as he descended the stairs, still in the dark. She couldn’t have gone far, not at this time of night. The floor felt cool beneath his feet as he crossed the hallway through the house.

He stopped in the kitchen doorway.

Alisha was kneeling on the floor, arms folded over her abdomen, her head down, and she was rocking back and forth.

“Alisha?” he asked.

She shook her head, not answering.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm sounded in his voice. What the hell had happened?

“Nothing,” she gasped. “I’m fine.”

He stopped beside her, kneeling down next to her and placing a gentle hand on her back. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he said. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head again. “I can’t.”

He caught sight of a half-empty glass of water and her medication on the worktop. “I think I know what’s wrong,” he said. “Have you taken your pain relief?”

She nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath. “It hasn’t started to take effect yet,” she struggled to tell him.

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Come on,” he decided. “Rocking on a cold, hard floor isn’t going to do you any good.”

“I’m trying to hold heat in to my tummy,” she whispered, her pain clear in her words.

“Well you’re not doing a good job of it,” he said gently as he helped her to her feet.

Her legs buckled as a wave of pain swept over her, and he swiftly lifted her into his arms and carried her though to the couch in the lounge. “Stay here,” he instructed her. “I’ll make you a hot drink.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue, and settled back against the cushions, holding one firmly against her stomach.

After a few minutes, he reappeared with two cups and a heated pack. “I used this when I pulled a muscle in my back at the gym,” he explained, handing it to her. “Hold it over your tummy. The heat will help a little.”

“Thankyou,” she said softly.

“Stop thanking me for everything,” he told her.

“I think this is beyond the call of duty for a boss,” she said wryly.

“I think I’d prefer to think of us as being friends, before employer and employee,” he told her. “Particularly in situations such as this one. We’ve come through a lot in such a short time. But I trust you. I seldom trust people, but I trust you.” He smiled, then turned to drink his coffee.

“I have to admit, I trust you as well,” she admitted grudgingly. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

He tipped his head back and laughed. “I’m not all that worried about you if you can still come out with comments like that,” he chuckled. “Try this. It’s hot, and will also help.”

She took the cup from him. “I’m coming back as a cat in my next life,” she muttered. “Although knowing my luck, I’ll be a tomcat and someone will take me to the vet to have my balls chopped off.”

He spluttered into his coffee as laughter overtook him, and she glared at him.

“Such a pessimistic view of life,” he remarked.

“Realistic,” she grunted in reply, sipping her coffee.

He moved to lift a fleecy blanket from the back of the armchair, wrapping it around her shoulders. “Why don’t you lie there for the night?” he suggested. “I’m sure the cat will keep you warm.”

Rohan had padded silently through, his nose twitching as he assessed what was going on in the middle of the night to disturb him. No sooner had Thranduil spoken, he jumped up onto the couch and settled in her lap, purring in contentment.

She smiled as she stroked his back with her free hand, his heat soothing her traumatised muscles as well as the heat pack. “I may just do that,” she murmered.

He moved to adjust the cushions behind her, placing them on the arm of the couch so she could lie down, and she handed her cup over as she gratefully leaned back. Rohan grumbled and changed position to settle on her once more.

“I’ll stay around until you fall asleep,” Thranduil told her. “Just rest, and call me if you need anything. I’ll be through in the kitchen working on my laptop.”

She murmered her gratitude as she closed her eyes, the cat’s low purring sending her towards sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

** CHAPTER TWELVE **

****

Thranduil tipped his head back and closed his eyes, drained.

Alisha sat a few feet away, on the floor the same as him. “What’s up?” she asked.

He lowered his head, shaking it as he did so. “Nothing. Everything. This is dragging me further and further down. I swore I would not allow it to affect me, but it is.”

She shifted a little, her knee nudging a pile of books and sending them sliding sideways. “We knew this was going to be difficult,” she reasoned. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“No.”

A couple of weeks had passed since her altercation with the reporter outside the shopping complex. Thranduil had suggested having Elrond mind Legolas for the day so they could return to Ted’s house and make some headway on sorting through his possessions.

Alisha had thought at first it was a good idea, until she saw the toll it was taking on him. Strong and silent most of the time, he was showing the strain as he sat across from her on the carpet.

“I wonder if we’ve tried to move onto this too quickly?” she wondered aloud, reaching for the scattered books to pile into a box.

He pushed some of them towards her. “It has to be done, one way or the other,” he replied. “The timing makes no difference. I’d rather be anywhere else than here, being completely honest.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the beginning?” she said, anguish in her voice. “I could have done this myself. You didn’t have to put yourself through this crap, Thranduil.”

“I do not wish to leave you in this house by yourself,” he stated.

“His ghost isn’t going to come back and haunt me or anything, yanno,” she said. “And even it did, I’m not scared of ghosts.”

“There is an aura in this house,” he said. “Not a presence as such, but a feeling more than anything. I do not like it.”

“That’s because you know more than anybody else the truth of what was behind the mask of the man who lived here,” she replied. “Can you pass me that empty box, please?”

He reached behind himself and dragged the box over, passing it to her. “I still would like to torch the place.”

A small smile tugged at her mouth. “Maybe after the year is up, you can. But until then you have to accept that you can’t.”

He grunted. “Something like that,” he muttered. “Elrond sent me a text a short while ago. He suggested keeping Legolas until lunchtime tomorrow. How about we go out for dinner tonight, and drive back in the morning? That way we can have a break and do some more when we come back as we don’t have to drive back tonight.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed. “Have you anywhere in mind?”

“Not particularly; I don’t know this area too well,” he said, tearing a pile of documents in half with one swift movement.

She briefly wondered just how strong he was – she would never have been able to do more than fold the pile, never mind tear it in half. “I’m not too localised myself, as I seldom went out during my time here,” she admitted. “But I think there are some restaurants on the other side of town. Or plenty of take-out places.”

He shook his head, tossing the papers into a trash bag. “We need some air from this dump,” he told her. “Eating take-away defeats the purpose.”

“If you say so,” she shrugged. “I don’t mind either way. All I know is that now you’ve mentioned food, I’m pretty hungry.”

He grinned, the expression changing his entire face. “Then let’s eat,” he said, and leapt to his feet with surprising agility for his height. “Come on, slow-coach.”

She took the hand he held out to her, allowing him to tug her effortlessly to her feet as she grumbled under her breath.

The air outside seemed a thousand times fresher and more exhilarating than the stuffy atmosphere in the old house. They drove through town and ended up in a cosy little restaurant attached to a small hotel, which promised home cooking and traditional meals.

Alisha laughed internally as they both ordered the same thing – roast beef with creamed mashed potatoes, peas, green beans, and carrots, served with a rich, thick gravy. Thranduil had caught her eye and narrowed his in suspicion as she tried to keep a straight face, but said nothing. He chose tiramisu for dessert, while she opted for fresh apple pie with ice cream.

“I didn’t even know this place was here,” she said, partway through her apple pie.

“That’s not surprising, considering your former employer didn’t allow you out of his sight,” he commented dryly.

She grinned. “The least said, the better,” she told him. “It’s passed, and at the time I never really felt restricted. So there’s no point in holding a grudge over it.”

“True,” he admitted. “How much longer before I can burn the house down..?”

She laughed, making him laugh along with her.

“You’re nuts,” she said. “Take each day as it comes, and they’ll turn into weeks, then months, and before you know it, your year will be up. And so it’ll go, until my ten years are up. See? Time doesn’t stop for anybody.”

A chill settled in his stomach at her words. “Did the time you spent working for him seem like a long time to you?”

“Not really,” she replied, pushing her ice cream around the bowl in circles. “But I suppose it was one of those situations where I wasn’t aiming for the end, if that makes sense. Our situation is different, as it’s a fixed-term contract as such. With Ted, it was until he died, and who knew when that would happen. It could’ve happened after the first year, or he could have lasted ten years longer than he did. I never thought about it at the time.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but aren’t you the couple who are related to Ted over on Branstead?”

They both turned to see a plump woman in her mid-fifties approaching them warily.

Alisha glanced at Thranduil, who’s face had gone like granite. “Yes,” she replied, with a soft smile.

“I’m so sorry to hear of the old man’s death,” the woman said, coming closer. “He was such a gentleman! There aren’t many like him around. He used to come into my store all the time, so polite and chivalrous.”

Thranduil had set himself into a stony silence, so Alisha answered for him.

“Uh, yes,” she told the woman. “He wasn’t in good health towards the end of his life.”

“So tragic,” the woman said sympathetically, shaking her head. “He will be _so_ missed.”

Alisha discreetly kicked her flip-flop off one foot and gently rubbed her foot up and down the inside of his calf, sensing his silent anger. Ice blue eyes lifted from his plate and stared into hers.

“Such is life, unfortunately,” she told the woman, who nodded. “My husband is still coming to terms with what’s happened,” she added, as her eyes shifted to the still form of the blonde.

“That’s understandable,” the woman said. “I’ll leave you guys to your meal. Again, I’m so sorry to hear about Ted passing. Take care, both of you.”

“Thankyou, you too,” she said as she turned and retreated. Her eyes turned back to Thranduil, who was still glaring at her. “Breathe,” she said softly, removing her foot and settling it back beneath her seat. “She doesn’t know. She didn’t mean any harm.”

His nostrils flared as he focused on his breathing, the look of rage slowly fading in his eyes. “I wasn’t prepared for that,” he admitted after a long silence.

“I know,” she said softly. “I could feel you building a brick wall around yourself, with the intent of throwing any spare bricks at her.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. “I should have thought ahead, and put myself into a frame of mind where I would be able to face things like this,” he muttered.

“Stop it,” she said. “Have some ice cream.” Holding her spoon over to him, she smiled as he leaned towards her and tasted the creamy vanilla.

“Hmm…not bad,” he admitted. “Try some of this?”

She shook her head. “I don’t like tiramisu,” she answered. “You’re on your own with that one.”

_That’s not all I’m on my own with,_ he thought.

*****

“And so that was the end of the digger,” a deep male voice said, causing a ripple of laughter to circle around the table. “I won’t tell you how much we had to pay to acquire a replacement.”

“A fair few thousand, I bet,” Thranduil grinned, sipping his wine.

Alisha leaned back in her seat, unable to eat another thing.

Thranduil had invited a friend over for dinner, a friendly man called Thorin, who he contracted work to sometimes. He’d arrived armed with bottles of expensive wine and his two nephews, who’d fussed over Legolas so much, the youngster hadn’t wanted to go to bed.

“That meal was delicious, Alisha,” Kili, one of the nephews, told her. “I haven’t had a meal as amazing as that in a long time.”

“Me neither,” his brother Fili piped up. “Thankyou.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a smile. “I enjoyed preparing it, and I’m glad you liked it.”

“A beauty with a great figure, and who can cook…you fly git, Oropherion!” Thorin laughed, nudging Thranduil with his elbow. “Tell me Alisha – have you any sisters?”

“Sorry, no,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Mothers? Aunts? Desperate grandmothers?”

Another chorus of laughter rounded the table.

“Behave yourself, Oakenshield,” Thranduil chuckled. “There is only one Alisha, and guess what – she belongs to me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled. “Ah well, never mind. There’s a woman out there somewhere who’ll be desperate enough to have me.”

“Not in this lifetime, unc,” Fili retorted with a snort.

Thorin flipped his middle finger at him. “Like you’re doing a fine job yourself of landing a hot woman!”

“Ah, but I have youth on my side,” the blonde laughed. “Something you probably don’t even remember.”

Thranduil shook his head as he laughed, catching her eye and winking at her.

Something twisted inside her.

“If you guys are finished, I’ll set these over there to wash,” she announced, getting to her feet.

“I’ll get them,” he said, standing up.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said.

“A domestic!” Kili shouted, leaning both forearms on the table as his excited gaze darted between the two. “Place your bets now, people.”

Thorin almost choked on his wine. “They haven’t been married long enough to be having domestics, you cretin,” he said. “Good grief…young ones these days!”

Alisha took a pile of plates over to the trash, scraping any leftover bits off them. Thranduil appeared at her side with the rest, setting them on the worktop and sliding his arm around her waist, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t panic, I’m just keeping the pretence going for them,” he whispered softly.

“That’s ok,” she replied, grinning up at him as he stood back up.

“Aw, c’mon Thrand…leave her alone for five minutes!” Kili jeered. “You’re always touching her!”

“That’s because she is my wife, and therefore I’m entitled to touch her,” he replied over his shoulder. “And I’m the _only_ one entitled to touch her.”

The younger Oakenshield didn’t reply, knowing the statement was a cleverly concealed barb at his attempt at flirting with his wife earlier when he’d been introduced to her. Although subtle, Thranduil had obviously picked up on it, and was marking his territory.

Fili grinned. “Caught,” he whispered quietly to his brother, drawing a glare from Thorin, who pointed in warning at both of them.

“Anyone fancy a coffee?” she asked, turning away from her task and setting the empty plates down for the dishwasher. One hand rested on Thranduil’s chest.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Thorin replied. “Then we’ll be hitting the road, I’m afraid. Some of us have work in the morning… _unlike others,”_ he added pointedly at his nephews.

“I’m working myself tomorrow,” Thranduil said, his hand sliding across Alisha’s hip as she moved to put the kettle on. He instantly missed her warmth as she moved away. “But I plan to take Sunday off for definite.”

His guest nodded in agreement. “Did you get an invite from the grounds commission team?” he asked.

“Yes, I did,” he replied.

“Are you going?”

“Either myself, or Elrond will attend,” he answered. “At this point I’m not sure which one of us will.”

“Well, it’s for a good cause,” Thorin said.

“What is?” Alisha asked as she prepared their coffee.

“There’s a fundraising dinner-come-dance being held at the end of the month by the grounds commission,” Thranduil told her. “They’re raising funds for the conservation of the trees over by Mirkwood.”

“Sounds like a worthwhile cause,” she said.

“Would you like to go?”

She looked at him. “Not with Elrond,” she said with a laugh, making the others laugh with her.

“No, I meant with me,” he said, a sparkle in his eyes.

“We’ll see who goes,” she decided. “If you go, then yes – I’ll go with you. I haven’t worn anything other than joggers since our honeymoon.”

“I see a trip for an evening gown coming up, Thrand,” Thorin joked. “Better keep a spare credit card with you.”

“And a new gown means new shoes, new makeup, a haircut,” Fili pointed out.

“Not on your life!” she laughed, carrying two cups of coffee back to the table. Thranduil carried the other three. “I haven’t had my hair cut in years, and I’m not planning to.”

“Do you guys fight over the hairbrush in the mornings?” Kili questioned, earning himself a swift kick under the table from Thorin.

“Oh you’re hilarious,” she retorted, trying to contain her laughter. “SNL called, wanted to know where you are.”

“Ooooo,” both brothers said in unison.

Thorin shook his head. “Why did I even bring them?” he asked rhetorically. “I must be coming down with something.”

Thranduil grinned, his arm shooting out to grab her as she went past, heading for her seat. A swift tug and she landed in a heap on his lap, where his arm went tightly around her. “I dare say you must be desperate for the company if you insist on taking them everywhere with you,” he told his friend. He took a drink of his coffee, his thumb on his hand around her gently rubbing against her solar plexus.

“Well, someone has to try and drag them out into the real world,” Thorin said in a dry tone. “All they do is work then go home and play stupid video games.”

“They need outdoor hobbies,” Alisha said. “Something to expand their horizons a little bit.”

Kili looked away, making her wonder what she’d said wrong.

“They need hobbies full stop,” his uncle corrected. “Something that doesn’t involve electronics or television screens.”

“Uh…we’re right here, unc, and we can hear you,” Fili said.

“Don’t I know it,” the older man muttered.

Thranduil laughed. “How is the playpark coming along?”

“We’re bang on schedule,” Thorin replied. “I’m hoping to finish a week earlier than the set date, if things progress like the way they have been up until now.” He was referring to a contract he’d landed to construct a large playpark area on the other side of the city.

“Maybe we could take Legolas,” she suggested, turning to Thranduil. “Once it’s completed and open, obviously.”

He smiled, leaning closer and gently kissing her neck. “That sounds like a great idea,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

Something twisted inside her.

“Are there swings?” she asked, turning back to address their guest.

“Of course,” he replied with a tilt of his head.

“Right, that’s settled. I’m there!” she announced.

Everybody laughed.

The evening soon drew to a close, with the couple seeing their dinner guests to the door.

“Thankyou both for a wonderful evening,” Thorin said, shaking Thranduil’s hand and kissing the back of Alisha’s. “It’s been lovely to meet you, my dear.”

“And you too,” she replied with a genuine smile. “We should do this again sometime soon.”

“Definitely,” her husband agreed, his arm settled comfortably around her shoulders. “Drive safe, and I’ll call you through the week.”

The trio left with waves and calls of good night, and the two went back inside.

“I want you to promise me something,” Thranduil said as he closed the door and locked it.

“Ok,” she said, gazing up at him. “What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated briefly. “If I do or say anything which makes you feel uncomfortable, tell me,” he said. “I just do not wish to see us fail in our task, even though I dislike lying to my friends. But I have no choice in the matter.”

She nodded. “I understand,” she assured him. “And you haven’t done or said anything wrong. I don’t think you would, to be honest. Relax…I understand how important this is for you and Legolas.”

He nodded.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, turning and heading up the stairs.

“Goodnight,” he answered. His eyes tracked her until she disappeared from sight, then he ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes.

He hated his life.

*****

In her room, Alisha was restless, and paced up and down the carpet.

She was falling in love with her boss.

And that was seriously _bad_ news.

Ten years was going to feel more like a hundred and ten if she didn’t get it under control, and fast. Thranduil was the epitome of a successful, career-driven businessman, who had no time for affairs or flings. He definitely wasn’t open to developing feelings for anyone, particularly not after what he’d gone through with his son’s mother.

The thick carpet felt soft under her bare feet as she walked, her arms crossed over her waist.

What had she got herself into? The towering blonde could snap his fingers and have a queue of women forming a line to get into his bed. He’d never look at her in such a way. His eyes alone were enough to melt the hardest of hearts, and everything else about him simply added to the package. His impressive height, his amazing long blonde hair, his smile, his approach to people, even his voice. Strong and deep, it sent shivers down her back every time he spoke.

And every time he touched her, her senses went into overdrive.

Fire blazed to life under her skin at each gentle touch, each whisper of his hand against her. He spoke often about setting fire to Ted’s house, when in reality he was setting fire to her every time he made physical contact.

She had tried not to read too much into his ways. Protective and possessive around others, she knew it was part of the act which they both had to work on to retain his son’s presence in their lives. He was so attentive around her when other people were around, and even though it was part of his role in their façade, she loved it.  

But it broke her heart even more.

She was destined to spend her life alone, whether she was married or not.


	13. Chapter 13

** CHAPTER THIRTEEN **

****

Alisha glanced round as she stacked the spare towels into the cupboard outside the bathroom. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

Thranduil sighed, his long hair swaying around him as he jogged up the stairs towards her. “Just one hell of a stressful day,” he said, sitting on the top step. “I felt like tonight would never get here. I’ve been desperate to quit work all afternoon.”

“Anything I can do?” she asked sympathetically.

“No, I’ll be alright,” he said. “We lost one of our major contracts today.”

“Oh no!” She crossed over and sat beside him. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. An email came from them just before lunch time, saying that they had changed their minds and were going with a different developer. I called them, Elrond called them, but they wouldn’t go back on it.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmered. “That was a shit thing to do.”

He nodded, his head low. “We had everything set up to be signed and sealed,” he said, speaking to his feet. “Now it’s all gone down the toilet.”

She sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. “I made a curry for dinner,” she said eventually. “But I can go and get you a Chinese take-away or something if you’d prefer.”

“Curry sounds amazing,” he said determinedly, getting to his feet. “I shouldn’t load all this crap onto you.”

“Don’t be crazy,” she scoffed as she got up. “If you can’t come home and offload to me, who can you do it to? I doubt Legolas would be interested, and besides, he’s asleep.”

“Already?” His eyebrows rose in surprise as he stuck his head back round his bedroom door across the hall.

“Mmm. I took him over to the ball pool at the leisure centre,” she said. “He had an absolute whale of a time. I had trouble getting him home again.”

He grinned, disappearing again. “He loves the ball pool,” he said, his voice carrying through. “Have you seen my grey joggers and hoodie anywhere..?”

She lifted them from the laundry basket at her feet and handed them around the door.

“Oh…thanks,” he said cheerfully. “Hopefully I’ll feel better after a hot shower and in more comfortable clothing.”

She blinked hard as she turned away, busying herself with the rest of the ironed laundry. The sound of the shower running irritated her, and she swept up the basket and went back downstairs.

He emerged in the kitchen a short while after, looking refreshed and more relaxed. Water still dripped from the ends of his long hair.

“You’ll make puddles on the floor, and I’ll end up slipping and falling on my arse,” she quipped, handing him a towel.

He grinned, rubbing it over his head. “It takes ages to dry sometimes,” he said.

“I know. Mine is the same. Takes forever,” she agreed. “Do you want to eat just now?”

“Yes, please,” he replied. “If you’re going to eat just now, anyway. I’m starved.”

“So am I,” she admitted.

“So why didn’t you eat earlier?”

“Because I thought it might be nice for you to come home and not have to eat alone,” she said. “Trust me – I’ve done it often enough. It’s not the most pleasant experience after a shitty day.”

He conceded her point with a tilt of his head. “Shall I help you serve it?”

“No, I’ve got this,” she replied. “Dry your hair and sit down. It’ll be with you in two tics.”

He complied as he grinned to himself. She’d certainly settled into the role of his wife, taking control when she needed to, and ordering him around when it seemed to suit her. His backside touched the seat at the same time as the thought hit him that he needed her.

“Here we go,” she said a few moments later, placing his plate before him. “Are you ok?” A frown creased her forehead.

“Yes, yes I am,” he replied hurriedly. “I just need to get today out of my mind, that’s all. Everything’s fine.”

“Talk to me about this dinner/dance thingy that Thorin was talking about the other night,” she suggested, digging into her rice.

“It’s probably the most boring event ever to have been created,” he said dryly. “However, it _is_ for a good cause, and therefore I will attend. Elrond has said he’s not going, so I’ll have to go in his place.” He glanced over at her. “Do you still want to come with me?”

“Of course I do,” she replied. “It’ll do us good to be seen out and about together, and something like that will draw the right sort of attention. I have zero idea what to wear though – I’ve never been to a formal event like that.”

“I’ve been to far too many to remember,” he said. “I’ll guide you. We can look online for something that you would like to wear, or we can go shopping.”

“Probably on-line is easier,” she said. “It’s not fair on the wee one to drag him from store to store; he’d get bored really quickly. There’s not much entertainment for a young child out shopping.”

“True. we’ll have a look after dinner and see what we can find, and that gives us room timewise if nothing catches your eye,” he said. “This is delicious, by the way.”

She smiled. “Thankyou. I’m thinking of doing a cheese omelette for breakfast in the morning, does that sound ok?”

“You are spoiling me!” he laughed. “I’ll end up the size of a house the way you keep cooking for me.”

“Isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do?” she asked innocently, trying to keep the smile from her face and failing.

“Old-fashioned nonsense,” he retorted. “I will have to cook a meal for you some time.”

She shrugged. “I don’t mind cooking, I quite enjoy it if I have the time to prepare and organise myself. It’s when I’m under pressure that I can’t deliver the same kind of quality.”

He frowned. “You shouldn’t be under pressure here,” he said.

“I’m not, that’s what’s more enjoyable about making meals,” she told him. “When I cooked for Ted for the first few years, there was always the pressure element. If he had someone over, everything had to be done within a set time and be perfect – all that rubbish. Here, it’s more relaxed.”

“Good. That’s the main thing.” He set his fork down. “Listen…I know this whole set-up is a job, but it’s important to me that you don’t feel pressurized or stressed. I want you to feel comfortable in what you do, and have the freedom to use your own initiative.”

She smiled. “That means a lot to me,” she admitted. “It’s difficult sometimes to get out of the work frame of mind, but this is definitely a more relaxing place to be. And Legolas is just such a sweetheart…I can’t explain how well I’ve connected with him.”

“I see it,” he told her, lifting his fork again. “I see the way both your faces light up when you are with each other. I hear the non-stop babbling between both of you. It’s an amazing thing, and something my son has needed for his entire life – a mother-figure of sorts.”

“I just hope that he doesn’t grow up and hate me,” she said, her tone quieter. “I’m not letting myself think that far ahead though, I’ll cross it when I get there.”

He nodded, his eyes on his plate before him. “It’s going to be a difficult situation to face eventually,” he admitted. “I planned – or rather Gandalf planned – this all out just thinking of the current situation, and not the long-term effect. But like you say, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. It’s a long way off yet.”

She nodded back. “Who knows? He might not be able to stand the sight of me anyway by then.” A grin accompanied her words, making him shake his head.

“Legolas is not that kind of person,” he said. “I can see that even at this young age. He’s very astute, and knows people. If he doesn’t take to a person, there’s always a good reason behind it, which comes out eventually. He took to you like a duck to water, and that helped settle my mind a great deal.”

“And it’s impossible not to fall head over heels in love with him,” she said. “He’s just adorable, in every way.”

Something twisted inside him.

“Shall we have a look online for a gown for you to wear?” he asked, changing the subject swiftly. “I’m full; thankyou.”

“You’re welcome, and that sounds like a great idea,” she said. “Let me quickly make a coffee first.”

“No,” he said, rising to his feet and taking her empty plate. “I will make the coffee. You go and bring my laptop through.”

She did as he said, and before long they were both seated shoulder to shoulder staring at the screen.

“That looks like something off a dinner plate,” she commented, pointing at the dress on screen.

He clicked on the next one. “Too slutty.”

The next one. “Looks like it was made in the sixties,” she said.

Another one. “Poor quality fabric,” he said.

They went through loads and loads of gowns, with nothing catching the eye of either of them. Over an hour passed, and they were still no better off as to what she could wear.

“I say we sleep on it tonight, and have a fresh look tomorrow,” he suggested, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms over his head. Her gaze automatically dropped as his shirt lifted, exposing a toned, flat stomach.

“Good idea,” she said, deliberately looking away. “I might turn in just now. I’m pretty shattered after today.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’m in need of a decent sleep.” A sleep where she wasn’t haunting his dreams.

“Ok, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, getting up with a smile. “Sleep well.”

“You too,” he smiled back.

*****

Alisha yawned as she wrapped her robe around her, wobbling on the top step of the staircase. She huffed in exasperation and followed her common sense, holding tightly to the handrail as she made her way down to the ground floor.

She often awoke through the night looking for a coffee, and if she couldn’t fall back asleep of her own accord, she would venture up and make one. Thranduil had never mentioned her traipsing through the house in the dead of night, so he either wasn’t aware, or it didn’t bother him.

Her feet made no noise as she crossed the tiled floor, heading for the kettle and switching it on. She took a cup from the unit on the wall, and turned her head slightly as something prickled at her senses. She stilled.

Silence.

Frowning, she placed the cup on the worktop and padded further into the house. She came to a stop in the doorway of Thranduil’s darkened study.

He was sitting on the leather couch, his back to her. Soft sniffles told her he was crying.

She crossed the thick carpet as she approached him, sliding her arms around his shoulders and leaning into his back, her chin resting on top of his head.

He said nothing, just lifted his hand and placed it on her wrists which were crossed over the front of his chest. Neither of them spoke, they simply stayed motionless; her giving silent comfort, and him accepting it equally silently.

They stayed like that for several minutes, and eventually she pulled her arms back, leaving him alone once more. She went through and made the coffee, making him one at the same time, and took his through. She handed him it over his shoulder, not saying anything. He wordlessly took it from her, and she walked away.

“Alisha.”

She stopped and turned.

“Thankyou,” he whispered.

“That’s ok,” she said softly.

He didn’t appear to want to say anything more, so she went back up to her room.

He was quiet over breakfast the following morning.

Legolas was in full flow, banging on the table with his spoon and screeching like a banshee, wriggling and wobbling around in his high chair. Alisha prepared the cheese omelette she’d mentioned the previous night as she chopped fruit into small pieces to sprinkle over the youngster’s porridge.

“That looks amazing,” Thranduil murmered as she slid his plate in front of him.

She flashed him a smile. “Right, Tiny Terror – let’s get this into you,” she declared as she sat adjacent to the small blonde, who grinned at her. “Open wide…wheee…there we go.” One spoon successfully delivered. She was aware of his father quietly eating his breakfast across from her, but didn’t actively draw him into the conversation.

“Eesha,” Legolas piped up, sending a shower of porridge over the table.

“What, sweetheart?” She scooped another spoonful ready to feed it to him.

“Daddy sad,” he told her, his innocent blue eyes darting to his parent.

“Daddy’s tired,” she told him. “Daddy needs sleep-sleep. Open up.”

He chewed the spoonful she gave him, before speaking again. “Daddy not need sleep-sleep. Daddy sad.”

Thranduil gazed at his child, astounded that he knew so much. “He’s more astute than I give him credit for,” he murmered.

“Kids usually are,” she replied, her attention on the little one. “Try some strawberry.”

His little mouth opened as wide as he could open it, and she popped the soft fruit inside, quickly withdrawing her fingers before his teeth snapped closed.

“I had another nightmare last night,” Thranduil said softly.

She stirred the bowl of porridge, glancing over at him. “Do you get them often?”

He nodded. “More frequently since I was at the house,” he replied. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and running both hands through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “I can hear her screaming,” he said, his voice no louder than a whisper. “And I cannot get to her to help her.”

Alisha looked at him, her heart breaking for what he was going through. “I think maybe you should look into counselling,” she said quietly. “This is almost like PTSD, even though it didn’t happen to you. You’re carrying a lot of guilt for something that you had no control over. Finding those tapes has created an unfounded guilt trip in you, and you need to break free of it.”

He inhaled deeply. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know anymore. Nothing makes sense.”

The buzzer signalling someone at the front gate sounded, and both of them whipped around to face the main door, before looking back at each other.

“This could be trouble,” he said, getting up from the chair. He strode along the hall and pressed the intercom which had visual link-up. “Yes?”

“Court-appointed agents, Mr Oropherion,” a man said in a weary tone.

Thranduil inhaled through his nose. “I’ll buzz you in,” he said, cutting the screen and pressing the button to open the gates.

Alisha shot past him and tore up the stairs. “I’ll be in your room,” she said, disappearing along the top hall out of sight.

He opened the door and waited, as two figures ambled along the driveway towards him. A male and a female presented themselves, both with ID badges and carrying court papers signed by the judge.

“Come in,” he told them, inspecting the paperwork. “Do you usually make house calls at this hour of the morning?”

“Usually,” the female replied in a clipped tone. “Mrs Oropherion?”

“She’s upstairs,” he answered.

“I’d like to see her, if you don’t mind,” she informed him. “This way?”

Thinking that obviously the staircase would be the logical way to access the upper floor, he nodded.

She went up the carpeted stairs, with him close behind, followed in turn by the male officer.

His heart was beating like a drum as they approached his bedroom. “Baby, are you decent?” he called, knocking lightly on the door.

No reply.

“Open the door, please, Mr Oropherion,” the man said.

Thranduil complied, dreading whatever he was about to face.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Alisha sat up in his bed, yawning, her hair ruffled and messed.

She was naked with the sheet pulled up only just covering her breasts.

 “What’s going on?” she asked, frowning in confusion. “Who are these people? What time is it?”

The two officers looked at one another.

“They’re court-appointed officers,” he told her. “Just here to check the house and everything.”

She scowled. “You could at least have waited until a decent hour,” she grumbled, glaring at the clock. “Most people aren’t even awake yet.”

“Just doing our job, ma’am,” the female answered her. “Do you mind if I have a look around?”

“Do you mind if I get dressed first?” she snapped.

“It won’t take a minute,” the reply came, as she invited herself through to the en suite bathroom.

Thranduil stood in silence, inwardly thanking the Gods for the fact that Alisha’s makeup and various personal items were in there.

The woman emerged from the bathroom and crossed over to the closet, sliding the doors open and checking inside. Female clothing hung up next to male garments.

“Seems satisfactory,” she announced eventually, closing the doors over. “Sorry to have disturbed you, ma’am. We’ll let you get dressed.”

Alisha didn’t reply, just scowled menacingly at them.

They left the bedroom and Thranduil winked at her as he pulled the door closed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, before whipping her clothes out from under the quilt where she’d hurriedly stuffed them. Within a few seconds she was dressed again, and headed downstairs.

“Good morning, wee man,” she said cheerily as she went into the kitchen.

“Eesha!” Legolas cheered, holding both arms up for a hug.

“Aww, you’re all porridge,” she laughed, squatting down to his level to hug him. “Did daddy get it all in your hair again? Shall I give you a bath after breakfast?”

“Bath,” he echoed. “Daddy bath too.”

The two officers had a look around the kitchen, but she knew they were listening intently to the interaction.

“Daddy bath with Alisha later,” she said. “Legolas needs a bath all to himself for his boats, doesn’t he?”

“Boats! Bubbles!” he yelled, banging the spoon off the table. Porridge splattered everywhere.

“Everything seems fine, Mr and Mrs Oropherion,” the man announced. “Thankyou for cooperating. We won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Not a problem,” Thranduil replied smoothly. “I’ll see you out.” He couldn’t get the thought out of his head that Alisha had been naked under his sheets. Leading the two officers away from the kitchen, he closed the door behind them, sighing in relief.

“That was close,” Alisha remarked as he re-entered. “I only just managed to strip off enough to hide under the covers.”

He laughed. “Smart thinking,” he replied. “At least now they think we share a bed.”

“That was my intention,” she said, waving the spoon in front of Legolas, who chased it from side to side with his mouth open. “I don’t know what else we could give them to keep them satisfied.”

“There’s a good chance they’ll appear again, out of the blue,” he told her. “That judge is just one royal pain in the arse, and I think he’ll go the full mile to try and catch us out.”

“We’ll just have to be careful,” she said.

“Let him try. See how far he gets,” he said with determination. “At least we can relax for a while now they’ve been. They won’t come twice in one day.”

“This dinner-dance-set-up…is it public knowledge? I mean, can anyone go to it?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. They advertise well in advance to try and draw as much support and fundraising as they can,” he replied. “Why?”

She lifted one eyebrow. “I wouldn’t put it past the court to have someone there, if they find out we’re going,” she said, glancing at him. “It might prove to be the performance of our lives.”

“I’ll just have to keep you on the dancefloor for most of the night,” he said. “As long as we keep going the way we’ve been doing, they won’t find fault. I’m sure of this.”

“Well we managed to fool Thorin and his nephews, and you’ve known them a long time. If we can do that, we can do it with everybody else,” she pointed out. “Legolas, stop spitting porridge at me, you little menace.”

Thranduil fell into silence, watching her attempt to feed his son.


	14. Chapter 14

** CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

****

The end of the month soon approached, bringing the fundraising dinner/dance evening along with it.

Alisha was reasonably calm, on the outside anyway. Inside, she was a bundle of nerves. She was anxious over the choice she and Thranduil had made on her dress, but mostly she was nervous about dancing with him. Her attraction to him was deepening as the weeks rolled past, and she was finding it more difficult to maintain a cool façade around him. They’d had Thorin back over for dinner, plus a few of his work associates, and keeping up the act of a passionately-in-love couple had worn her down.

She longed to be in his arms for real, for him to look at her the way he did in company and for it to be real. She wanted his hands exploring her, his mouth claiming hers, his body demanding possession of hers.

She wished with everything in her that she hadn’t accepted his job offer. But then Legolas would look at her and smile, and she’d feel guilty for being selfish. The little boy needed his father, and to have him, she needed to be there.

The precious child’s happiness was a small price to pay for her heartache.

*****

“Stop fidgeting; you look beautiful,” Thranduil told her, tightening his grip on her hand.

“I’m just a little nervous,” she told him. “I haven’t been to many formal events, if any.”

“You attended a wedding recently,” he reminded her with a mischievous grin. “If that does not count as a formal event, then I have no idea what does.”

“Very funny,” she laughed. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “Yes. And you will be absolutely fine. You look stunning, and you have the natural ability to blend into any given situation, so relax.”

“Thankyou,” she smiled.

“Thranduil! Good to see you,” a hearty voice boomed, catching their attention. An older man emerged from the crowd, dressed in an elegant suit. “This must be your lovely wife.”

He shook the newcomer’s hand. “This is Alisha, my wife,” he told him. “Alisha, this is James Danwell, who is the head of the fundraising committee, and the force behind tonight’s event.”

“Pleased to meet you, James,” she said with a dazzling smile.

“Oh believe me, the pleasure is all mine, my dear,” he replied. His eyes turned to Thranduil. “I’d heard you had married, but nobody told me how beautiful your bride is!”

Thranduil grinned, releasing her hand and sliding his arm around her waist instead. “I’m keeping her to myself,” he joked. “I can’t do with the competition of you trying to steal her from me.”

James laughed. “Keep a hold of her,” he advised with a sparkle in his eyes. “There are quite a few bachelors amongst us this evening. And the alcohol is free-flowing.”

“He has nothing to worry about,” she said, smiling up at Thranduil. “And he knows it.”

“Just beautiful,” James remarked. “Long may it continue. A toast,” he decided suddenly, as a waiter went past and he swiftly grabbed three champagne flutes and handed them two. “To a long, happy, and love-filled marriage. You deserve it, Thranduil.”

Both of them smiled as they touched glasses, acknowledging the toast and the good wishes that accompanied it.

“Well I’d much prefer to hang around and catch up, but I’m afraid duty calls and I have the unfortunate task of mingling – God, I hate both the word and the act. It drives me insane,” the older man grumbled. “Stay close Thranduil, and we’ll catch up before the night is over.”

“That’s a definite,” he replied smoothly.

“I don’t think champagne on an empty stomach is a good idea for me,” she whispered as James disappeared back into the throng. “Especially with the pain medication I have to take sometimes.”

Thranduil took her glass from her and set it alongside his on a nearby table, knowing a waiter would lift them on passing if someone hadn’t already swiped them by then. “Have you had any recently?” he asked, a frown of concern arching down over his eyes.

“No, but I had to take some yesterday,” she answered. “I’m not sure how long they stay in your system, and they’re quite strong, so I don’t want to take any chances.”

“No, I understand,” he assured her. “Perhaps better to stick to water?”

She nodded. “Sounds like a wise choice.”

“Dance with me?” he asked, as they made their way through the people towards the large dancefloor. Lots of couples were already caught up in the atmosphere.

“Sure,” she said, and stepped out into a space with him.

His hands slid around her waist and settled on her lower back as she turned to face him, her body flush against his. Her arms went up around his neck, and she found herself gazing into crystal clear ice blue eyes.

“Relax,” he said softly as they swayed slowly. “You are so tense, I can feel it.”

She smiled, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “I can’t help it,” she told him.

“You’ll settle as the night rolls on,” he assured her. “Just close off and enjoy the moment. Go to your happy place if that helps.”

She looked away, and he wondered if he’d hit a nerve, so he said nothing further.

*****

The meal went perfectly.

The two sat side by side, surrounded by elite members of the community who had rallied round in the effort of raising as much awareness as possible and of course funding. The media were milling around, and Alisha felt that a lot of eyes were on them.

So did Thranduil.

He played his part with ease, touching her often, whispering in her ear, kissing her cheek or her neck when he had the chance, and offering her bites from his meal. To anyone observing, they appeared besotted with one another.

More dancing followed.

The band played All 4 One’s I Swear, which made her stomach drop as she struggled to mask her feelings. The lights had dimmed somewhat, with small coloured spotlights that circled around the room. She held on to Thranduil, trying not to let the music or his nearness affect her.

_And I swear by the moon and the stars in the sky_

_I'll be there_

_I swear like a shadow that's by your side_

_I'll be there_

Ice blue eyes stared deeply into hers.

_For better or worse, till death do us part_

_I'll love you with every beat of my heart_

_And I swear_

His shoulders felt broad and strong beneath her hands as she held on to his, his hands burning through the sheer fabric of her gown.

Taking a deep breath, she purposefully looked away, leaning her head on his shoulder instead. Closing her eyes, she relaxed against him, listening to his breathing as his arms tightened around her. For all they looked like a happily married couple, she couldn’t have felt any more anguish if she searched the planet for it.

Thranduil closed his eyes and lowered his head, leaning against hers. She felt so good in his arms, and he was losing the fight to distinguish between fantasy and reality. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to hold her for real and to show her what love was, how real their marriage could be. He’d asked her to work for him in the battle to win his custody case, but he hadn’t expected to fall in love with her.

He didn’t want to be in love with her.

It scared him.

The song ended, and they stepped apart a little.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she said, her voice sounding foreign to her ears.

He nodded, swallowing. “I’ll meet you back at our seats,” he said, frowning a little as he attempted to gather in his thoughts.

She turned and walked away, his eyes following her as she disappeared between groups of people.

He sighed deeply, going over to their seats, where he threw himself down with an air of resignation.

“I have to say, you two make a great couple,” James said, appearing and lowering himself down into the seat beside him. “Absolutely beautiful. So in love. I have to tell you Thranduil, I never thought I’d see a woman melting your heart the way she has. You’re one lucky man.”

“Yes, I know,” he said wistfully. “I am lucky.”

“How did you meet each other?” he asked, beckoning a waiter over and helping himself to a glass of wine.

“She was a nurse for my uncle,” Thranduil replied. “She took care of him until he passed away.”

“So she has the right nature you need in a wife and mother; caring and selfless,” James commented. He snorted softly. “I wish my Marie had been like that. Never a sharper battle-axe walked this planet, may God rest her soul. But jeez – when she started on an ear-bashing, she didn’t know when to quit.”

He smiled politely.

Alisha finished up in the bathroom and decided on her way out to hell with it – she was going to have a glass of wine to steady herself. The evening was draining her, and she was torn between bursting into tears or running away, knowing she could do neither. She was desperate to go home and relieve Elrond of his baby-sitting duties, and get away from this farce she’d managed to get herself tangled up in.

Requesting her wine from the bar tender, she leaned her forearms on the counter and waited.

“A beautiful gown, and a beautiful lady,” a voice said.

She turned to see a friendly smile. “Kili!” she gasped in surprise. “Hi! I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!”

He grinned, sitting on an empty stool next to where she stood. “I’m Thorin’s plus one,” he laughed. “He didn’t want to come alone, but he said he needed to put in an appearance, so I tagged along. How’s things?”

“Great,” she replied. “Thranduil’s danced the feet off me all night, and the food has been amazing. I’m really enjoying myself.”

Kili nodded, his eyes assessing her. “Can I get this?” he said suddenly, as the bar tender slid her glass of wine towards her.

“No, don’t be silly,” she said. “Thranduil has a tab, but to be honest, neither of us have had much to drink tonight. He’s driving and I like to be alert in case Legolas wakes up during the night.”

“Mmm, you’ve taken on a lot with a ready made family,” he said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she responded, sipping her wine.

“Oh no, please…I didn’t mean any offence,” he stuttered, touching her arm. “I meant that a lot of women aren’t interested in raising someone else’s child. It says a lot about you.”

“He’s an adorable kid,” she said, smiling as his little face appeared in her mind’s eye.

Across the hall, Thranduil was watching the two with narrowed eyes.

“You might have one of your own by the time he starts school,” Kili said.

“Miracles do happen,” she grinned. “We’ll see – it’s maybe a bit early to plan that out. Nobody knows what the future holds.”

“No…they don’t,” he agreed, his tone thoughtful. “Would you like to dance?”

“Raincheck?” she asked hopefully, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She wanted to be on one man’s arms, and one man’s only. “My feet are killing me.”

He nodded. “I shall hold you to that,” he responded with a smile, his eyes holding hers. “So – tell me how you fill your days in the Oropherion household.” He snapped his fingers and summoned the bar tender back, requesting a bottle of beer.

“The wee one keeps me busy,” she replied. “Besides looking after the house, I spend a lot of time with him. He’s as absorbent as a little sponge right now, and takes everything in. He’s learning numbers just now.”

“Excellent! I’ll wager he keeps you on your toes,” he said.

“Definitely! He’s a bundle of mischief, and so lively,” she told him. “But his nature is so sweet; he’s such a loving, affectionate kid. I can’t believe how well he’s taken to me, to be honest.”

“Maybe you just have the kind of personality that people drift towards,” he said, watching her as he swigged from his bottle. “Some women are like that. People can’t help but gravitate towards them.”

Thranduil’s nostrils flared as he kept his eyes on the two of them. Kili was constantly touching her arm as he spoke, and hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She laughed and smiled throughout their exchange, and he felt the burn of intense jealousy rear up inside him. Hatred burned into his soul.

He inhaled deeply as she leaned her head back and laughed at something the other man had said, her long hair rippling like silk down her back. Kili winked at her as he drank his beer.

The second he decided to storm over to them and punch him to the floor, Kili slid off his stool, placing his hand on her back as they turned towards him. Alisha lifted her head and her eyes locked with his, a look of confusion flooding over her face.

Inwardly, she wondered what had happened in the short time she’d been away; the look in his eyes was cold and hard.

“Just returning your lovely wife,” Kili announced cheerfully as they came to a stop in front of him. “Although she did turn me down for a dance, so maybe I’ll have to try harder next time.” He smiled at her as he spoke.

Ice blue eyes followed him as he walked away from them, tracking him as he disappeared in the crowds, then swept back to her. “We’re leaving,” he said.

She blinked in bewilderment. “Ok,” she agreed. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer, gripping her hand in his with a tight grip and moving purposefully towards the door.

“Leaving already, guys?” James asked, freeing himself from a desperate-looking woman who had her arm possessively through his.

“Yes. Alisha is feeling a little light-headed and I want to get her home to rest,” he replied. “It’s been a wonderful evening James, well done for your efforts.”

The older man inclined his head with a smile. “I hope you feel better soon, my dear,” he told her. “We’ll meet up for lunch soon and have that catch-up,” he added to Thranduil. “Drive safe.”

“What was that about?” she asked, once they’d left the building and she was being marched towards the car. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

A few seconds passed before he spoke. “I needed an excuse to get out of there,” he said eventually, opening the car door. “Get in.”

Deciding that something major had riled him, she silently slid into the car, jumping as he slammed it closed.

The drive home was tense; neither of them spoke. He was fighting with the insane jealousy inside him, and she wasn’t sure how to approach him in his current state of mind, not knowing what had triggered him to begin with. The city flew past in the darkness as he drove, picking up speed in his rage and his desperation to put as much distance between her and Kili as possible. Not contented with flirting with her in front of him at his house the first time he’d met her, he was pushing the boat further out and trying to woo her in front of others.

Before long, the car shuddered to a halt in their driveway, and he alighted the vehicle and slammed the driver’s door. She was surprised when he came round to her side and held hers open for her, thinking that perhaps she’d said something to annoy him. Saying nothing, she slid down onto her feet and moved aside, the door again being slammed hard enough to rock the vehicle.

He strode up the steps and into the house, heading through to the lounge.

Elrond was sprawled comfortably in an armchair reading, and he glanced up as his friend marched into the room. “You’re back early,” he remarked, and frowned at the vibe emitting from the blonde. “Is everything alright?”

His bewildered eyes met Alisha’s, and she shrugged.

“Yes. I have some things I need to take care of,” Thranduil answered, his tone sharp. “Thankyou for babysitting.”

“No troubles,” he replied, closing the book and setting it on the coffee table. “I’ll see you at work in the morning?”

“Yes.”

He stood up, his concerned look sweeping between both of them. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he murmered.

“Thanks, Elrond,” she said, nodding.

He lifted one eyebrow as he passed her, but she shook her head subtly.

The other man left the house, and within a few seconds she heard the engine of his car turn over. Her breath left her in a deep sigh as she kicked her heels off.

Thranduil moved suddenly, his still form lurching to life as he viciously threw his car keys across the room to land on the coffee table. “What the fuck were you playing at?” he demanded, rounding on her with fury in his eyes.

“What?” she gasped.

“Back there, horsing around with Oakenshield’s nephew!” he thundered. “Do you have _any_ idea how that looked? Do you?”

“I wasn’t horsing around with anybody!” she protested. “What’s wrong with you?? I passed a few comments as I had a glass of wine! Where’s the harm in that?”

“I’ll tell you! It looked like he was trying to get into your underwear, and you were happy to allow him!” he shouted. “How the fuck are we supposed to keep the image up of a happily married couple if you run off and offer yourself to every available man?!” He knew he was being completely irrational, but he didn’t care. His jealousy was too fierce.

Her jaw dropped in horror. “Fuck you,” she hissed. “I did _not_ offer myself to anybody! How dare you! I spoke with him, that’s hardly bearing his children, for chrissakes!”

“That will probably be next!” he spat, furious.

“Have you even thought about what you’re saying?” she demanded angrily. “Who did I dance with all night? Who’s side did I stay at all night? Who did I sit next to and share a meal with? For God’s sake Thranduil, just listen to yourself! Do you _really_ think I’d jeopardise everything when that little boy’s future is at stake?” She gestured up towards the ceiling. “Because if you think I would, you need your fucking head seen to.”

He stepped towards her. “You will _never_ put my son’s future at risk,” he hissed. “If this goes wrong through your doing, I will _finish_ you. No-one will ever employ you. You’ll have no prospects. Your life will be ruined.”

“You bastard,” she whispered. “I’d _never_ do anything to hurt Legolas! Get your head out of your fucking arse and get with the program. This is all for _him,_ this entire shambles of a situation. You need a goddamned reality check, and fast, because you’re so fucked up right now, you’re way off the scale!”

“Do not talk to me of reality!” he yelled, making her jump. “You think I do not understand reality? You think I am not aware of the ramifications if what we have done comes to light? I will _lose_ my child! I will go to prison for fraud, as will you and Gandalf! I will lose everything!”

“Poor you,” she scoffed. “My concern is your son, and to hell with you if this is the shit I’ll have to listen to for the next ten years! It wasn’t that when the waitress had her cleavage right in your face and you didn’t do anything about it, was it?”

His jaw clenched. “She was serving our meal,” he ground out.

“And you were staring at her bust like it was a fucking Godsend,” she snapped. “What happened to _what’s good for the goose, is good for the gander_? Or is it one rule for me and one for you? You said no affairs, or was that just meant for me? Am I the only one who’s expected to remain true to this fucking contract?”

“Looking hardly constitutes as being an affair,” he said in disgust.

“But talking with someone does?” she demanded, folding her arms. “Holy shit – just gag me for the rest of the contract if that’s how it goes!”

“Perhaps I should,” he hissed.

“I dare you,” she whispered, a flash of tightly-seized fury in her eyes. “I dare you.”

“Do not tempt me,” he whispered back, equally as angry. The fury of Kili flirting with her and touching her was gnawing through his soul, and he was powerless to stop it. “That bastard has had his eye on you since the first time he saw you.”

“He’s a player, for chrissakes,” she retorted. “He flirts with every female, probably flirts with his own grandmother! Some guys are like that, it’s just who they are! Do you think I take anybody like that seriously? Good God…” She shook her head, stunned that he’d reacted as harshly over what she’d deemed to be a simple conversation.

She’d known the Oakenshield nephew had been openly flirting, but hadn’t given it a second thought. He was simply a young guy, trying his luck. The world was full of them.

“Get your priorities in order,” he snapped, storming past her, his shoulder bumping hers as he passed.

“Get your fucking head in order,” she shot back.

The sound of his angry footsteps echoed down the hall as he stormed upstairs, and the slamming of his bedroom door made her flinch.


	15. Chapter 15

** CHAPTER FIFTEEN **

****

Thranduil paced the conference room, irritation coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to be stuck in a boring meeting, arguing over cost-cutting methods and how to reduce a building by three point five inches. He wanted to be at home, making things right with Alisha.

He hadn’t slept a lot the previous night, too angry to find the peace he needed. He knew he’d taken his anger out on her with no good reason, and that she had been innocent. The surge of jealousy had taken him by surprise as it had flared to life within him, clouding his sense of judgement and rational thought. All he could think of was grabbing her and kissing her so deeply, she’d never think of anything else but him.

His jaw clenched as the endless debate raged around him. There had to be a way to settle this and then he could leave.

*****

Alisha stared into her coffee.

“I don’t mean to pry, but if things are getting too much, you have to be able to talk to someone,” Elrond told her. He stood leaning against the worktop, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his cup, and his feet crossed at the ankles. “Thranduil was in a terrible mood when he came to work this morning.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, offering him a smile. “He probably didn’t sleep well.”

He grunted. “A temper like that seldom manifests from only tiredness,” he said. “Anyway, you know that if you ever need to talk, I’m here. I know Thranduil’s like a brother to me, and that will never change. But I’m also Legolas’s godfather, and the little one means the world to me also. I do not wish to see either you or his father unhappy.”

She swallowed. “We had a massive fight,” she whispered.

“I figured as much,” he said, crossing the floor and sitting down opposite her on the other side of the table. “I assume you didn’t make up again before he left for work this morning?”

She shook her head. “No. Too much was said, too many accusations…it all got out of hand really quickly and both of us were furious.”

Elrond offered her a small smile. “Welcome to the world of marriage,” he quipped, drinking a mouthful of his coffee. “It’ll pass, I’m sure.”

“I’m not so sure,” she replied. Her eyes drifted up towards the ceiling. “Kili Oakenshield was at the fundraiser last night. I was talking to him at the bar, and Thranduil went crazy after you left. He said I had offered myself to him, he’d been flirting with me, all sorts of crazy nonsense.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “And were you flirting?”

“No!” she cried. “I was not!”

“I’m sorry my dear, I’m only asking to try and get a better picture,” he said.

“Kili was flirting with me, just innocent bullshit. He’d flirt with anyone, it’s his nature,” she said. “I didn’t take it serious, I didn’t acknowledge it, I didn’t even think it meant anything. We went back over to Thranduil, and he said we were leaving, just like that. He grabbed my hand and we left, after he’d told James whats-name that I wasn’t well.”

“Could it be simply a case of misunderstanding, based solely on the worry he has over making sure everyone sees you as a solid couple?” he suggested. “Perhaps he was worried about how anyone else would see it.”

She shrugged. “That came into it,” she said, and relayed small parts of the argument. “I don’t know what I did wrong, apart from speak to someone because it’s rude to ignore them.”

Elrond took a deep breath. “I feel that you didn’t do anything wrong, Alisha,” he told her. “And I think that your husband has so much stress on his shoulders, he’s allowing it to control him.”

He ignored the tiny demon dancing around on his shoulder, yelling at him that he’d told a blatant lie. He knew exactly what was wrong with Thranduil. But it wasn’t his place to tell her.

“I get that, but why turn on me?” she asked, anguish in her voice. “He told me if I mess this up he’ll ruin my life. I haven’t done anything to deserve that, I really haven’t.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll calm down and see his mistake,” he told her. “I’ve known him for years, and he never holds a grudge for long, believe me.”

She knew otherwise, having seen how he’d spoken to Ted. “There’s nothing for him to hold a grudge over,” she said softly as she twisted her mug in her hands. “He completely over-reacted, and I took the brunt of it. That’s not what I want to put up with for the next ten years, Elrond. I can’t cope with him blowing up like that with no reason. It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “I’d suggest letting him calm down, and talk to him when he does. He’ll settle eventually; maybe he just needs to let off steam and you were unfortunate to be the one to take the blast.”

She snorted, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. “I need to check on Legolas, and see if he’s fallen asleep yet.” The youngster had been cranky and desperate for his nap, so she’d settled him in his room shortly before her conversation with Elrond. Bounding to the upper floor, she checked on him and went back down, contented that he’d finally drifted off.

Elrond was flicking through the tv channels by the time she got back to him.

“At least he’s fallen asleep for a while,” she commented, and leaned on the back of the couch in the lounge where he’d wandered to.

“Yes. There is nothing more frustrating that a tired, unhappy child,” he said.

“A tired, unhappy husband,” she muttered under her breath, and he laughed.

“I’m sure once he-“

_“And a breaking news report – an allegedly fatal automobile accident has happened just off the southbound freeway, heading towards Marfield,”_  the news reader’s voice interrupted. _“Footage is coming through as we speak, taken by horrified witness at the scene.”_

The pair fell silent as the camera zoomed in on a large vehicle lying on its side in the middle of the freeway. Flames were curling up over the underside, engulfing the car.

“My God,” Alisha whispered.

_“Witnesses say it appears one of the tyres exploded, causing the vehicle to overturn and burst into the inferno that we can clearly see here,”_ the announced continued. _“Speculation is rife at this point as to whether the driver is entrepreneur businessman Thranduil Oropherion, seen in his black SUV just a short while ago. Reports are as yet unconfirmed.”_

Alisha screamed.

*****

Elrond dropped the remote control and flew towards her as her legs collapsed underneath her. He grabbed her and held her upright.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

“Calm down, we don’t know anything yet,” he said, trying to calm her and hold her still with one arm as he rooted in his pocket for his phone. “I’m going to call his cell phone.”

She fought free and grabbed her own phone, rapidly dialling his number as he did likewise, her breathing coming hard and fast. Neither of them could get through.

“I’ll try the office,” he said, his face pale.

She gasped for breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrific scene on the screen.

“Don’t look at it, Alisha,” he told her, trying to turn her away from it.

“No, no, no!” she cried, distraught. “It can’t be him, Elrond, it can’t be him!”

“It probably isn’t,” he said, waiting for the call to be connected. “It’s Elrond. Is Thranduil still there?”

She waited, her chest heaving as she tried to inhale between her sobs.

“When? Has no-one heard from him?” he demanded, his face like thunder. “Goddammit…keep trying. Call me if you hear from him.” He cut the call, turning heartbroken eyes in her direction. “He left the office half an hour ago,” he whispered. “My secretary said he was angry and stormed out. He didn’t speak to anyone as he left.”

She dropped to her knees, crying harder. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she rocked back and forth. “I never told him,” she gasped. “I never told him…”

He swore under his breath as he frantically dialled again. “It’s saying he’s unavailable,” he said.

She cried even harder as the picture on the screen zoomed in. The entire car was being swallowed by the flames. “He could be dead in there and they’re filming it!” she sobbed. “And he’s alone..!”

“Try to stay calm, love – we don’t know for sure if he’s there or not,” he tried to console her. “It’s purely speculation at this point, nothing’s been confirmed.”

“If he left half an hour ago, he would be here!” she said, her body shaking uncontrollably. “I never told him…oh my God I should have told him…”

“Told him what?” he asked, gently touching his hand to her shoulder. “What should you have told him?”

“That I love him!” she sobbed. “I never said anything, and now he’ll never know!”

His heart broke a little more at her anguished confession.

She gasped and panted, desperately trying to breathe as she started to cough and choke in her hysterical state. He gripped her shoulders and tried to steady her, but she’d sunk into an abyss of grief and he couldn’t reach her.

The tv continued covering the accident, the footage cutting from one viewpoint to another. A helicopter had arrived and was transmitting ariel coverage, circling the wreckage in the process. Both of them jumped, Alisha screaming, as the fuel tank exploded and forced the car up off the road, landing back down with an almighty crash.

She started hyperventilating, and he angrily switched the screen off.

“Listen to me,” he ordered, gripping her upper arms and hauling her upright. “We do not know if Thranduil was anywhere near there. He might not be. We can’t take anything as concrete right now.”

Releasing his hold on one of her arms, he used his free hand to redial, holding her in an embrace with the other. Again, it failed to connect, and his heart sunk even lower.

“Goddammit, Thranduil,” he muttered in exasperation. “Until we hear otherwise, it is _not_ him in that car, do you understand?”

She couldn’t answer, battling too hard for air. Her fists clutched his shirt as she tried to ground herself.

Elrond glanced over her head, his heart hammering in his chest. “Stay here,” he said, freeing himself from her grasp. He rose to his feet and hurried through the house, charging out of the main door and down the steps.

A large black SUV pulled up.

“There’s been a major crash on the freeway,” Elrond said, grabbing a bewildered Thranduil in a brief hug as he stepped out of the car. “TV reports are saying it was you. Alisha’s absolutely devastated – she’s broken – I can’t console her. It’s a mess.”

Thranduil’s eyes widened in horror, his gaze drifting away from his friend towards the house. “Release a statement please,” he ordered, snapping back to reality as he rapidly approached the door. “Fix this.”

“Thranduil.”

He turned.

“There’s a lot that needs to be said between you two,” he said.

He swallowed, turning back and entering the house. He slammed the door and hurried towards the sound of heartbroken cries, finding his wife on the living room floor on her knees.

She lifted her head at the sound of the door slamming, her breath coming in laboured chokes and gasps. Thranduil closed the distance between them and sank to his knees, pulling her against him in a crushing hug. Her arms went around his neck as she sobbed harder, her whole body trembling violently.

He _shhh_ ’d softly in her ear, gently rubbing his hands up and down her back. Her trembling and shaking was out of control as her hysteria took a major hold on her, closing her off to everything rational around her.

“Everything’s ok,” he whispered. “Try to breathe, Alisha. Slow your breathing down. Everything’s going to be alright.” He wasn’t sure she’d heard him, as her sobbing didn’t slow down. Rocking gently from side to side, his arms tightened around her as she fought for breath. “Come on sweetheart, try to slow it down a little. I’m here, it’s alright.”

Still she didn’t respond. She simply clung to him, her hands gripping fistfuls of his shirt over his shoulders. She couldn’t believe that he was there, he was real, and he was in her arms.

Gently but firmly lifting her arms down, he gripped her wrists in between them and set her away from him a little. “Alisha, listen to me,” he said. “You’re going to pass out, you’re hyperventilating. Breathe with me sweetheart, breathe with me.”

She couldn’t see him through her tears, but she could feel him right in front of her, could feel his worried eyes on her as she coughed and gasped. Dragging deep, shuddering breaths in, her lungs worked frantically to function at a more acceptable rate instead of the frenzied punishment she’d put them through in her distress. His hands felt tight and warm as he held her wrists, his thumbs gently rubbing her skin.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered. “Keep breathing with me. Everything’s alright.”

Her body continued to quake and tremble, and he slowly pulled her into his arms again as her breathing regulated enough that he knew she wouldn’t faint. She turned her face into his neck, still crying, as she absorbed his heat.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered brokenly.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “The news had no right to name anyone in that crash. They shouldn’t have done that.”

Her eyes were closed as she struggled to steady herself and regain control. The smell of him invaded her senses, tipping everything further out of balance. She gasped a steadying breath in, his long silky hair caressing her face and her arms as she tightened them around his neck.

Instinctively, she lifted her head slightly and pressed a soft kiss to his warm flesh, and she felt a shudder ripple through his body. Her grief was too raw to do anything other than let her feelings out, and she was past the point of caring. Another kiss a little higher up, and another, until she reached his ear.

His hands clenched into fists at her back, his own breathing ragged. He turned his head towards her, his mouth meeting hers in a crushing kiss.

Passion erupted to life as her lips parted under his. He groaned as her hands slid forwards and caressed his neck, her mouth accepting his and enticing him further. Helpless to resist her, he could only follow.

His hands slid through her hair, holding her still. She whimpered into him as his tongue pushed into her mouth, exploring and claiming. Desire flooded through her, pooling in between her legs as he angled his head slightly to deepen the kiss further.

Both large hands left her hair and wandered down her shoulders and back, tracing her curves and tugging her even closer. Her body melted against his as they moved, her contours pressed tightly against the solid wall of his chest.

His heart thumped violently inside him as her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them and delving to touch the warm flesh beneath. She moaned as she explored, her tongue dancing with his in a hot, frenzied wave of lust.

He forcibly wrenched his mouth from hers, diving to her neck instead. Strong, sharp teeth sunk into her flesh, making her cry out at the sensation of both pleasure and pain combined. His rapid panting filtered through her distorted senses, indicating his arousal and the fact that he was as affected as she was.

“God…I want you _so_ much, Alisha,” he gasped, biting and sucking. Tender kisses touched the skin he was devouring in his hunger. “I want you so much it’s killing me…but not like this…”

She didn’t answer, too caught up in the tornado that was engulfing her and taking her to a place she didn’t even know existed. His arms around her, his body pressed hard against hers, and his mouth on her created blasts of fire and sexual energy to flood through her body, shielding her against any logic or common sense. All that mattered was the man she clung on to, and what he was doing to her.

He kissed his way back to her lips, where his crushed against hers in a deep, open-mouthed kiss that spoke a thousand words of need and desire, desperation and the tortured need to possess. Digging deep for a strength he’d left behind him the moment her lips had met his, he slowly stood, taking her with him, their kiss never losing ground. She rose up onto her toes and wound her arms around his neck, and he automatically lifted her higher and wrapped her legs around his waist. Both gasped at the intimate contact, the swelling hardness of him pressing against her.

She wriggled against him, threading her fingers through his hair as she put everything she had into the kiss. Vaguely aware of moving, she locked her heels at his back.

He carefully climbed the stairs with her, going along the upper hallway and booting his bedroom door open. Two or three long strides took them both over to his large bed, where they crashed down onto the quilt, tearing at each other’s clothes.

“This is wrong,” he gasped, wrenching his mouth away from hers and panting hard for breath as he lifted her t-shirt and wrenched it up and off. The garment sailed to the floor, and his mouth met hers again. “But it feels so right…” He tugged at the catch on her bra, eventually succeeding in undoing it, and it too was tossed away. “I don’t think I can stop…”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered breathlessly, her chest heaving against his as she struggled for air. “I want this so much…” Her hands worked frantically on the waistband of his trousers, freeing the button and lowering the zipper to release him.

A garbled noise caught in his throat as her hand closed around him through his underwear, squeezing him and working him up and down. “Oh my God that feels _soooo_ good,” he rasped. “Oh yes…more, baby…more…”

Her fingers tightened around him, and he bucked against her in a grinding motion. He pulled himself into a sitting position, taking her with him, and shrugged out of the shirt she’d managed to undo all the buttons on. Her hands immediately flew up to his chest and shoulders, touching, teasing, exploring. She traced his sculpted muscles, wandering down to his open trousers.

“Take these off,” she whispered against his mouth. “I need all of you.”

Helpless to do anything but comply, he fought to remove them, succeeding and kicking them out of the way along with his underwear. Immediately he set about pulling her jeans down, the tight denim frustratingly difficult to peel from her.

Completely free of restrictions, hot, fevered skin pressed against hot, fevered skin. Nails scored down muscles. Hungry mouths sucked hard on flesh. Limbs intertwined. Hardness rocked against softness. Urgency and desperation grew in force.

Alisha tipped her head back, moaning helplessly as she felt the hard length of him press against her, nudging insistently for entry. Her hips lifted to accept him, her hands pushing against his lower back in encouragement.

He began to slowly push into her, and she cried out in tortured pleasure at his penetration, her thighs tightening around his waist. He breathed in broken, laboured pants as he pushed deeper. Her body reacted, gripping him in an iron hold and drawing him in further.

Thranduil sunk into her until he could go no further, and rested his head in the curve of her neck for a moment to gather his bearings. His chest heaved against her as he fought for air, and when he squeezed his eyes closed, he could see stars bursting in the darkness.

Gentle fingers lovingly swept through his hair, and her soft mouth kissed the side of his face. He lifted his head, gazing down into deep blue eyes that looked into his with so much trust and emotion; a passion that he’d never seen before.

He blinked, his hands gripping hers as he twisted their fingers together. Ice blue eyes gazed into hers as he slowly began to move, a gentle rocking thrust that made her mouth open in a silent _oh._ Each move he made pulled her closer to him emotionally, drawn in by the unguarded look in his eyes and the slow thrusts of his body.

Her own body reacted to every twitch of his muscles, every rock of his hips, every glimpse of emotion that flickered through his eyes. She lifted her head up from the pillow slightly and touched her mouth to his with a deep moan as her pleasure level increased rapidly. Sliding her flingers free from his, she wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed. His arms slid under her back and crossed behind her, crushing her against him as they moved together. Long blonde hair tangled with long black hair as they rolled over then rolled a second time, giving him the dominant position once more.

He felt her muscles tense and tighten around him, her body quivering with each deep thrust. He increased his pace, chasing both her peak and his. Everything blurred around them as they lost themselves in each other, both giving and taking everything from one another.

She ripped away from him, each breath leaving her with a soft moan as she felt her climax rippling to the surface. Her eyes locked with his as he responded to her body’s silent call, determined to take her to her finish before he reached his. Her hips bucked up violently as she exploded in his arms, gasping and crying out in ecstacy, and he finally allowed himself to let go.

His orgasm shuddered through him with the force of a storm, sweeping through his system in crashing waves as he trembled and quaked in her hold.

The couple sagged against each other; breathless, exhausted, sated.


	16. Chapter 16

** CHAPTER SIXTEEN **

****

Thranduil blinked a few times as he tried to gain awareness of his surroundings. A frown arched down over his eyes as he turned his head, expecting to find Alisha next to him but instead finding an empty space. He shook his head to clear it as he pushed against the mattress into a sitting position.

Her clothing lay strewn across the bedroom floor in all directions, tangled with his.

He yawned as he dragged himself out of the bed, not having expected to fall asleep. Then again, he hadn’t expected to storm out of the office in a foul temper.

Or to come home to find Alisha in pieces.

Or to have taken her to his bed and made passionate love to her.

The black robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door cascaded down his body as he shrugged his arms into it and tied the belt. His bare feet were silent on the thick carpet as he made his way downstairs and through the house, freeing his long hair from the robe and letting it ripple down his back.

Alisha stood gazing out of the large lounge window, a robe belonging to him covering her. The garment was miles too big and the fabric hung from her much smaller frame, but he’d never seen anything so appealing.

She blinked back to reality as two strong arms slid around her waist, a soft kiss touching her neck. A small smile curved her mouth.

“I…I have something to tell you,” he whispered, his lips touching her skin as he spoke.

She slowly turned in his arms, staring up into his eyes.

He blinked, looking away nervously.

“What is it?” she asked, mentally trying to prepare herself for anything.

“I…” He stopped and sighed, tipping his head back and gazing at the ceiling above them. Tipping it back forwards, he made himself meet her eyes. “I…I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” he whispered.

Her vision blurred as hot tears filled her eyes, and her heart began the pounding thump-thump it had become so accustomed to whenever he was around.

“I know this complicates things,” he whispered. “And I know-“

“I love you too,” she interrupted. Her tears began to slide down her cheeks. “I’ve loved you for a long time, and just didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t.”

He stared at her for a few moments, unable to digest her words. The tears tracking down her face twisted his heart painfully, and he slid his arms back from her. Both hands lifted to frame her face, his thumbs gently wiping the moisture away. Her eyes fluttered closed as he lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers with so much tenderness, her tears flowed faster.

“Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry,” he pleaded softly. “You’ve cried too many tears today. Don’t cry anymore, please.”

She sniffed, wiping tears away with her shoulder. “There’s just so many emotions and feelings, and after what happened on the tv today…”

“I know,” he said. “And that was so out of order. Elrond is going to put a statement out correcting the news station, and I’ll be speaking to Gandalf about what they did. They had no right to name anyone, much less televise someone’s horrific death like that for the sake of notoriety and viewing figures.”

“We both tried calling you, so many times…”

“My phone had died,” he said. “I forgot to charge it last night. I’m sorry.”

“I honestly thought that it was your car,” she admitted. “The fact that it was a black SUV…and then they said you’d been seen getting into your car, and people were saying it was you-“

“Sshhh,” he whispered, drawing her close again and cradling her head against his shoulder. “Don’t think about it. I’m here and perfectly fine. Nothing will happen to me.”

“I kept thinking about our fight last night, and how I feel and the fact I never told you that I love you,” she mumbled against him, her words coming out in a rush.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he told her. “I just saw red when Kili was touching your arm constantly. I just wanted to storm over there and rip his arms off. I was jealous because he was talking to you and touching you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have turned on you the way I did through petty jealousy.”

She shrugged. “It’s ok,” she said. “They say jealousy is a sign that someone cares.”

“I do care,” he said, pulling back a little and gently tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I care so much, and – God…what a mess. I kept telling myself that this is a business arrangement and not to let my feelings become an issue, but I couldn’t help it. You’re a wonderful person Alisha, your nature is so pure and you always see the best in people…you’re not cynical like I am.”

She smiled slightly. “That doesn’t always do me any favours,” she reminded him.

“But if you’d known the truth about what Ted had done in the past, you wouldn’t have gone to work for him, and we would never have met,” he pointed out. “Maybe it’s true that there is always something good to take away from something that’s bad.”

“Maybe,” she agreed in a quiet voice. “Who knows? I can’t make head nor tail of anything anymore. All the stuff with what he did, finding out that’d he’d recorded it, thinking I’d have to move out so quickly, us getting married, fighting the courts for Legolas, falling in love after trying so hard _not_ to fall in love…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I feel like I need to stop the world and step off for a while.”

He gazed into her eyes as she talked, listening intently to her. “And I haven’t helped with the stress you’ve been going through,” he said.

“You’ve had your own issues to deal with, Thranduil,” she told him.

“Perhaps. But I put more onto you when I shouldn’t have done.” He sighed, his eyes closing for a moment or two. “Maybe I did the wrong thing asking you to go through with all this,” he whispered. “Although I’m going to be selfish and tell you that right now, I’m glad I did. Because I never expected anything to happen between us, never. And now it has. And I don’t know about you, but I’m so happy right now. I love you.”

She smiled, tugging him down to her and pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “I love you too,” she whispered. “And I think-“

The sound of Legolas hollering broke through her words, and both glanced at the baby monitor.

“We can continue this later,” Thranduil said, kissing her once more. “I’ll go and get him.”

“I’ll throw some clothes on and start preparing dinner,” she replied. “Do you fancy anything in particular?”

He shook his head. “Only the beautiful, amazing, sexy woman in my arms,” he grinned. “I won’t be long.”

His hand drifted away from hers as he moved away, heading out of the lounge to go up for his child. She watched him go, folding her arms again and wondering where life was going.

*****

Legolas let out a screech and shot round the couch, with Thranduil behind him on his hands and knees, growling like a dog. The youngster hid behind Alisha’s legs, peeping out and screeching again, laughter infused in the ear-splitting noise. He took off, hurtling past the coffee table and around behind Gandalf. His “dog” followed in hot pursuit, eyed disdainfully by Gondor and Rohan. Both cats were perched up on the window ledge.

“You’re getting him too wound up,” she admonished her husband. “He won’t sleep if you don’t slow it down a little.”

He snorted, crashing around the lounge carpet still on all fours. “He’s young – life is about playing at this age,” he reasoned, followed by a series of barks that had his son diving behind the curtains as he screamed with laughter.

Alisha shook her head, meeting Gandalf’s amused eyes. “Don’t encourage them,” she warned.

“The thought never crossed my mind, my dear,” he replied. “I am of the belief that neither of them requires any encouragement.”

“I’m of the belief that both of them have lost the plot,” she muttered, as Legolas flew out from the other side of the curtain and shot past her. She reached out an arm and scooped him up. “Uh-uh wee man, you need to chill a little bit before bed-time. And so does your daddy.”

“Daddy pay!” he yelled, wriggling and kicking. “Daddy doggy!”

“Daddy bites!” Thranduil said, advancing on them.

His son broke free and slid to the floor, hitting the carpet at a run.

Gandalf’s sharp eyes watched his friend wink at Alisha, whose cheeks turned ever so slightly pink. But he said nothing. Father and son continued their wild rampage, leaving the lounge and crashing through into the kitchen. She cringed as she heard something hit the floor with a resounding clatter.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before they demolished something,” she sighed, uncrossing her legs and getting to her feet.

Another loud clatter, followed by hysterical baby giggles and laughter.

“Hey, cut that out, you two!” she yelled, following their trail of destruction. “You’re wrecking the joint, for crying out loud.”

Both had vanished by the time she entered the kitchen, having disappeared out of the other doorway and were back to charging around the lounge. Gandalf chortled and hurriedly moved his legs out of the way as the two of them hurtled around the armchair he was seated on.

Alisha re-entered the room with a sigh, flopping down onto the couch. “I give up,” she said, lifting both hands in the air. “Thranduil, you can settle him in bed tonight, because there’s no way in hell he’ll settle for me. You’ve got him wound up tighter than a coiled spring.”

He crashed down onto the floor on his stomach with an _oomph_ and lay his head on the carpet. Legolas stopped and peeked around the couch curiously, wondering why his “doggy” had stopped chasing him. After a few seconds, he emerged and toddled over to him, squatting down in front of him.

“Doggy tired,” he murmered, patting his head.

She bit her lip as she felt a ripple of laughter bubble up. “Yes, daddy’s tired,” she told him. “Wanna come up here for a cuddle?”

“Ok,” he sighed in resignation. “Eesha cuddle.” He waddled over, and she lifted his tiny form up onto her lap, cradling him in her arms. His arms instantly went up around her neck. “’Ove you, Eesha,” he told her, his solemn blue eyes gazing into hers.

“I love you too,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat.

Thranduil had turned his head on the floor and was watching the two of them, a smile on his face. Gandalf’s eyes darted between the three of them.

She sighed, kissing his chubby little cheek before turning her gaze to the six feet five human telegraph pole spread out along the floor. “I’m going to try and settle him, then turn into bed myself,” she said. “I’m pretty worn out.”

He nodded, lifting himself up onto his knees and waddling over to her, kissing his son. “Just yell if you need anything,” he told her. “I’m going to talk with Gandalf for a while.”

She smiled, easing herself towards the edge of the couch with her precious cargo. “G’night, Gandalf.”

“Goodnight, my dear,” he replied.

He watched the two adults as Thranduil gently touched her leg as she stood, trailing his hand slowly as she moved away and left the room. He sighed softly, before hauling himself up and sitting where she’d sat.

“What the hell are you doing?” the attorney demanded, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, fire in his eyes. “Are you out of your mind?”

The blonde narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know damned well what I’m talking about!” he hissed angrily. “You stand to ruin everything if you get involved with her! Does this custody case mean _nothing_ to you?!”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Thranduil retorted. “Of _course_ I know what it means! Do not take me to be some sort of imbecile!”

“You are behaving like a fool!” Gandalf said. “Try thinking with your head instead of your sex drive! The plan was a contract which would see you solid for the next decade, and what do you do? You get emotionally involved! One fight between you and it’s over.”

Thranduil clenched his jaw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated. “I love her.”

He scoffed in disgust. “Love? After less than two months? Are you insane?” He leaned back, shaking his head as he folded his arms. “You’re more stupid than I gave you credit for.”

“Be wary of your choice of words, old man,” he warned him angrily. “Just remember there are more attorneys than you walking around this city.”

“Replace me then!” Gandalf spat. “Honestly, I cannot believe that you have done something as idiotic as this! If this goes wrong, you will lose _everything._ You’ll lose the case, you’ll lose your son, you’ll lose her, and she’ll take half of everything you have. Trust me.”

Thranduil glared at him. “Right now I don’t even want to be in your presence,” he said decidedly as he rose to his feet and glowered down at him. “We’ve fallen for each other, and that’s all there is to it. You started this, and now you’re angry because I’ve gone with it.”

“No, I’m angry because you’ve allowed your damned hormones to go with it!” he snapped. “The initial agreement would have been sufficient, but no – you had to go and get involved. Have you slept with her?”

“That is none of your business!” he hissed, leaning down so he was right in his face. “I’ll thank you to do what I pay you for, and nothing else. Keep your observations and your opinions to yourself, else I will find another lawyer who isn’t as fucking opinionated or judgemental! See yourself out.” He stormed away, going through to his office and slamming the door.

He heard the engine of the attorney’s car within a few minutes, and exhaled through his nose, glad he’d left. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he threw himself down into the padded chair behind his desk, downing half the glass. What business was it of his if he’d slept with Alisha? He had no right to cast judgement, and he was certain he’d made it clear that it wasn’t welcome. The glass twirled between his fingers as he thought about what had been said.

Gandalf had been right on one aspect; if it went wrong, he would lose everything. But what they had between them felt right, and he didn’t want it to go back to the way it had been. Alisha was easy to love, even though he’d fought like hell against his feelings for her. Legolas adored her, and she worshipped the ground his little feet toddled on. The feeling he had whenever she looked at him convinced him that what they’d done wasn’t wrong; love between consenting adults was never wrong.

By the time he’d finished his wine, darkness was beginning to settle over the city. He carried the glass through to the kitchen, rinsed it out and put it in the sink to wash in the morning. Tomorrow would be another day.

He climbed the stairs, coming to a sudden halt as he entered his room.

His bed was empty.

Blinking in confusion, he glanced past Legolas’s ajar door to Alisha’s, which was also slightly open. He swallowed. He’d presumed he’d find her in his bed, and her absence shocked him a little. Hadn’t she said just mere hours ago that she loved him? If that was the case, why wasn’t she in his bed, waiting for him? Had he said something to annoy or upset her? Did she think she wasn’t welcome in his room? Was she under the assumption that a quick roll around would be sufficient??

He padded along to her door and pushed it open silently.

She lay on her side, sound asleep, the quilt half off the bed. One arm lay out across the mattress, her palm facing upwards. Her hair was spread over the pillow her head rested on. One leg was pulled up to support her weight.

He smiled, acknowledging the warm feeling that rushed through him as he gazed at her illuminated by the light from the hallway. Shaking his head slightly, he crept into the room and approached the bed, leaning down and sliding his arms underneath her. He lifted her and cradled her against his chest, turning and leaving the room.

*****

Alisha awoke to the sound of birds twittering, the melodic sound drifting in through the slightly open bedroom window. She blinked a few times, stretching stiff muscles. Her instinct immediately told her that something was wrong.

She jerked up into a sitting position, panicked.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Thranduil mumbled sleepily into his pillow. “You’re in my room.”

She looked down at him in astonishment. His long blonde hair cascaded over the pillow, his head turned away from her as he lay face down with his arms underneath the pillow. The quilt had been kicked back at some point, leaving the bedsheet twisted around his hips. His bare back presented itself to her, making her insides clench in a surge of sudden need.

She swallowed. “How did I get here?”

“I brought you through,” he replied, still mumbled. “Your bed is too small for both of us. This one is bigger.” He turned his head and rested his other cheek on the pillow, watching her. “Did I do something wrong?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “N-no,” she stammered self-consciously. “I just didn’t think you wanted me to sleep here.”

A frown appeared, causing a crease between his eyebrows. “Why not?”

She shrugged, lost for an answer.

He propped himself up onto his elbows, his hair sliding forwards over his strong shoulders. “Alisha, what’s going through your mind right now?” he asked softly.

She looked away, picking at something non-existent on the sheet.

He sat up further, twisting to face her, and gently turned her face to look at him. “Did you think that a quick fuck is the answer to everything?” he asked. “Is that what you think I want from you?”

“I…” She trailed off.

His frown deepened. “Because if that’s what you think, you couldn’t be further from the truth,” he said. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want you to share my bed, my room, my life. This isn’t just some casual affair, Alisha. I meant it when I said I’ve fallen for you. I didn’t plan this, but damn…I don’t regret it. And I want to follow it through. You may feel differently, I don’t know.” He shrugged, releasing his touch.

She shook her head. “I don’t,” she told him. “I just didn’t know what you expected of me, that’s all.”

He watched her intently, his ice blue eyes never wavering. “What do you want to give?”

She looked everywhere but at him.

“Alisha,” he said softly.

She looked back at him.

“What do you want out of this relationship? What do you want from us?” he asked. “Do not be afraid to be honest. Tell me,” he added as she hesitated.

“Everything,” she whispered.

He smiled, leaning towards her and rubbing his full mouth over hers. “Me too,” he whispered. “I want everything, and more. Much more.” His weight shifted, and without breaking their kiss, he lifted himself over her so he was sitting astride her thighs, being careful not to put his full weight on her.

She responded to his mouth against hers, her eyes closing as she lost herself in the pleasure that flowed from the simple contact. Her hands lifted to settle on his upper arms, her fingers tentatively kneading the solid muscle beneath the silky soft, warm skin. He angled his head slightly and deepened the kiss, his tongue requesting entrance to her mouth.

She granted it.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest as he gently pushed her down onto the mattress, still not breaking their connection. His long hair swept over her as she lay back, her hands sliding up over his shoulders to cross at the back of his neck. Her tongue danced with his as the kiss deepened even further and the heat between them grew hotter. Thranduil impatiently untangled himself from the sheet and tossed it aside, grinding his hips against hers in the process.

Her thighs opened instinctively, her knees lifting to settle against his sides.

“You have too many clothes on, my darling,” he murmered huskily as he kissed down the side of her neck. Strong hands pulled the straps of her pyjama top from her shoulders and down her arms, peeling the garment down her body and exposing her. “So beautiful.” His lips closed around the hard peak of one nipple, his tongue sweeping over it as he sucked in rhythm.

Her back arched as she clutched at him, her breathing becoming choppy as desire coursed through her central nervous system. Her hips rocked against his in an unspoken reply to his silent question, the rhythm of their movements keeping them in tandem. He slid further down, swirling a hot, wet path over her abdomen as his tongue teased and explored, his hands shoving her pyjama bottoms out of the way.

Her legs parted wider as his shoulders wriggled for room between them, his hands pushing against her inner thighs. She cried out in both surprise and pleasure as she felt his tongue swipe upwards in one firm, smooth stroke, swirling around her clitoris and sucking gently on it.

“Oh my God,” she panted. “Oh my God…”

He closed his eyes and concentrated on worshipping the goddess sprawled before him. Her fluid leaked in copious amounts as he licked and teased her, the taste of her inflaming his urges even further. A deep sigh of contentment reached her ears as he completely immersed himself in her.

Alisha’s eyes squeezed closed, stars bursting behind them as her body responded to his intimate touch. She wriggled against him, tangled her fingers in his hair, and moaned softly. He lifted one of her legs and rested it over his shoulder, his warm hand caressing her outer thigh. He could feel her muscles twitch restlessly beneath her skin.

“You taste like heaven,” he whispered, pushing his tongue inside her and making her yelp. “You taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted…”

She gasped as her body began to tighten, the speed of her impending orgasm taking her by surprise. No man had _ever_ brought her to such a quivering, helpless mess in such a short time, if ever at all. Sensing she was close, he pulled back and slid up her body, aligning his hardness against her and slowly pushing into her. His eyes locked with hers as her mouth opened, the dark blue clouded with lust and passion. He gripped both her hands, pinning them on either side of her head as his fingers interlocked with hers, his hips driving forwards in a steady, strong rhythm.

She met him thrust for thrust, her eager body accepting his and everything he had to give her. Her eyes drifted closed as his mouth crushed hers, hungrily returning his invading, demanding kiss. Her feet twisted around his upper thighs, her heels digging into the strong muscles. Each surge of his hips took her closer and closer to the edge, each sweep of his tongue in her mouth lifting her higher and higher.

“Thranduil,” she gasped breathlessly, tearing away from him. “Thranduil…”

He said nothing, only gazed into her eyes.

“I’m gonna come,” she whispered. “Oh my God, I’m gonna come!” Her whisper rose to a cry, followed by a shriek as her body exploded, her inner muscles clamping around him in an iron grip as her climax thundered through her. His fingers tightened like steel around hers as he picked up speed, thrusting harder and deeper into her, and he lowered his head to press his face against her neck with a roar. She felt a blast of wet warmth as he climaxed, and his body shuddered against hers. Her legs tightened around his back to hold him in place.

Both of them lay still, panting hard for breath as their heartbeats slowly lessened. The minutes ticked past with neither of them wanting to break their intimate hold. Eventually he lifted his head and gazed down at her, taking in her dazed eyes and her lips swollen from the force of his kisses.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “I love you too,” she said. Twisting one hand free from his, she lifted it and tucked a wild strand of his hair back behind his ear, softly kissing his shoulder. “And I have a feeling that I always will.”


	17. Chapter 17

** CHAPTER SEVENTEEN **

****

“Did you manage to sort things out between you?”

Thranduil lifted his head at Elrond’s question. What a question. How could he answer it? “Yes,” he said, after a silence.

His business partner lifted one eyebrow. “Anything you want to share?”

“No.” His cheeks turned a slightly darker shade, and Elrond laughed.

“You finally faced up to what you feel?” he teased. “Come on, Thran – I’d have to be blind not to see it. It’s obvious!”

Thranduil glared at him, grunting as he shuffled a pile of designs together. “You need your own life,” he muttered.

He snorted with laughter. “So I take it Alisha is alright?” he asked, his tone serious. “She was in one hell of a state.”

He nodded. “Yes. It broke my heart to see her like that,” he admitted. Troubled ice blue eyes met his. “Did you find out the source of that damned report?”

Elrond shook his head. “The news station has closed ranks and aren’t saying who it was,” he answered. “It’s not over yet, though. I’ll keep on it. I did however, find who it was who was in the crash.”

“Who?”

“An old man, mid-seventies,” he told him. “His tyre apparently exploded, and he couldn’t control the car.”

Thranduil shook his head. “I feel so sorry for his family,” he murmered. “It’s bad enough losing someone like that, but to have it plastered all over the news live, because they thought it was someone of public interest? That’s just salt on an open wound.”

His friend agreed.

“I want to cover the cost of the funeral,” he decided suddenly.

Elrond’s eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“Because of the way the whole thing was handled,” he replied. “It should never have been televised. It was just wrong. I want to do something to try and make things a little more towards being right.”

His friend exhaled loudly. “That’s an amazing gesture,” he admitted. “Why don’t we let the company pick up the tab? That’ll give the news something positive to chew over, instead of misconstrued nonsense and fabrication.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to do this for publicity,” he told him. “It’s more to lessen the pressure from the shoulders of the family left behind. It just evolved into a damned circus, and shouldn’t have.”

Elrond nodded. “As you wish,” he agreed. “Have you spoken to Gandalf regarding what happened?”

Thranduil snorted.

“What’s that about?”

Angry eyes looked over at the brunette. “I have spoken to him, but not of that,” he said. “He knows there’s something between Alisha and I, and he had too many fucking opinions about it for my liking.”

“I assume he doesn’t approve?” Elrond sat on the corner of the desk.

Another snort. “I told him if he didn’t pull back a little, I’d find another attorney,” Thranduil replied. “He spouted all this nonsense about if things went wrong, she’d take me to the cleaners. I’d lose the case, Legolas, her, everything.”

“You slept with her,” Elrond said softly.

“Shut up. Don’t _you_ start.”

He laughed. “I’m happy for you,” he insisted. “I could see the sparks between you two from the start, Thran. You have my blessing – not that you need or want it. I say follow your heart. She’s good for you. You make a beautiful couple.”

The blonde sighed heavily, leaning back against his seat and tipping his head back. “Tell me I haven’t made a mistake,” he murmered, gazing up at the ceiling.

“Why on earth would you think you have?” Elrond asked incredulously. “You love her, right?”

“Yes,” he snapped, lowering his head to glare at him.

“Well? She loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut up and stop talking nonsense. Sometimes you have to emerge from that bubble you’ve enclosed yourself in and take a chance,” he said. “You’ve closed yourself off from life for far too long. Take the opportunity for some happiness, and enjoy it.”

“While it lasts?”

The architect growled. “I could stop being your friend so easily,” he threatened. “I did _not_ say that. I said enjoy it. And if it turns out to be a lasting thing, then teriffic. If not, then there’s nothing I can say. Just enjoy what you have, and live for the moment.”

Thranduil swivelled the seat, his steely gaze fixed on his friend. “When did you start to become so philosophical?” he demanded. “Gandalf does have a very valid point. If it does go wrong, she’ll break my heart, and my life.”

“That’s a chance you have to take,” Elrond shot back. “You can’t live your life avoiding everything in case it doesn’t work out the way you want. You have to take the chance and go for it, and to hell with what might or might not be. You have one life, so live the damned thing. There’s no point in getting to ninety years old and regretting your past choices.”

His eyebrows rose at the outburst. “Good grief…did you sleep last night?”

“Yes, I did, thankyou,” the retort came. “Although I’m not entirely sure you did. You have shadows under your eyes.”

“Late night,” he muttered.

“Spare me the details, please,” Elrond grunted. “I have to go email this crap through to Oakenshield. Meet up with me for a coffee later?”

Thranduil nodded. “Will do.” His gaze followed his colleague as he left the office.

*****

Alisha handed Legolas the purple crayon, and turned her gaze away towards the window. The sun shone on the lush green grass, illuminating the colour to an almost ethereal level. Flowers of every colour conceivable bloomed, their fragrance filtering in through the open glass door. Glancing towards the sky, she watched light bubbly clouds drift overhead, pure white against the bright blue.

“How about we go outside for a while?” she suggested, turning back to Legolas.

Big blue eyes met hers. “We pay outside?” he asked.

“Yes, if you like,” she nodded. “Would you like to help me do some weeding?”

“Ooo,” he grinned, heaving the crayon down and lifting both arms. “Up, pease.”

She laughed as she rose to her feet, lifting him from the chair. “I have to go through your alphabet again, and teach you what _L_ is,” she told him. “Where did daddy put your sneakers?”

“In shoe box,” he replied, holding on to her hair. “Boo sneakers.”

“Blue sneakers,” she corrected gently.

“Boo,” he repeated.

Shaking her head in amusement, she sat down on the bottom stair and wriggled his little feet into the footwear, fastening the Velcro straps. She set him onto his feet, lifting her own tattered sneakers and putting them on.

“New sneakers,” he pointed out.

“No, baby, not for weeding,” she said. “They’ll get all dirty. I’ll wear my old ones.”

He seemed to accept that, and bounded towards the main door with her at his back.

“We’ll check the mailbox first, will we?” she suggested as she opened it. “See if the mail man has brought us anything? Don’t run down the steps, sweetheart. Just walk.”

“I walk,” he humphed as he stomped down each step. “Wetter-box?”

“Letter-box,” she corrected as she took hold of his hand. “Say LLL.”

“No.”

Unable to stop herself, she started to laugh at his stubbornness. His father’s genetics were strong within him, and they showed. They walked down the drive at his pace, reaching the gate and the mailbox. She let go of his hand and checked inside, lifting out a pile of letters and closing it.

“Daddy’s got mail,” she told Legolas as she flipped through the envelopes. “Oh…so do I,” she murmered as an afterthought. Tucking Thranduil’s post under her arm, she tore open the envelope addressed to her and slid the paper out.

_YOU WILL DIE_

She gasped, freezing on the spot. The black words stood out against the bright white sheet of paper, printed in block letters right in the centre. This had been designed for shock value, nothing more. Blinking a few times, she flipped the envelope over, looking for a postmark.

Nothing.

It had been hand-delivered.

The CCTV installed in the property didn’t quite cover the mailbox, and the video feed for the gate buzzer was focused to capture whoever had rung it. Theoretically, Jack the Ripper could have posted it, and nobody would know without anyone having seen anything. She thoughtfully folded the paper, stuffing it back into the envelope and into the pockets of her jeans shorts. No point in stressing over something so ridiculous and pointless; whoever had a grudge against her didn’t have the courage to face her head on.

Besides, she knew who was behind it. Legolas’s mother’s cousin was a sure-fire bet, having lost ground with the court case since the marriage between herself and Thranduil. The hatred emanating from both the woman and her husband the last time they’d faced off in court had been palpable.

Deciding not to worry about it, she took Legolas’s hand again and they crossed the grass to the flowerbed that she intended weeding. It was tucked around the corner of the house, slightly away from the driveway, and had seemingly been abandoned. After locating a suitable trowel and a small gardening fork, she settled down on her knees to start weeding. Legolas played quite happily at her side with his digger, scooping up mounds of soil and moving them around.

Thranduil appeared just after lunch, the sound of the car engine catching her attention. Her heart almost stopped as she looked over.

Tall and strong, he gracefully stepped out of the SUV. His long blonde hair drifted in the warm breeze, his shirt sleeves rolled to just below his elbows, and the collar open.

She swallowed.

_Damn!_ He looked good enough to eat.

“Daddy!” Legolas squealed excitedly. “Daddy! Eesha and me are weeding!”

He grinned, sinking down onto his haunches with his arms outstretched as his son shot towards him. “Have you been helping Alisha, or making a mess?” he asked, kissing his cheek as he lifted him onto one hip.

“I help!” he replied indignantly.

“He has,” she put in, sitting back on her heels as she watched the two of them approach. “He and Donald The Digger here-“ she pointed the trowel at the soil-caked toy “-have been a great help.”

“So I see,” he remarked as he perused the scene with one eyebrow raised. His eyes met hers. “Stand up, woman.”

She hoisted herself to her feet, yelping in surprise as his free hand shot out and he dragged her up against him, his warm mouth crushing hers in a deep, lustful kiss. A murmer of contentment vibrated up through his throat as his tongue demanded access to her mouth, taking it and relishing it.

“I needed that,” he whispered huskily as he dragged himself away a little. Eyes clouded with passion gazed down into hers. “I missed you.”

She smiled. “I don’t think anybody’s ever missed me before,” she said softly, feeling herself drawn into a whirlpool as she stared up at him.

“Well I missed you,” he said firmly.

“It’s only been half a day!” she laughed. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you some lunch; you can’t go back to work on an empty stomach.”

He released her and walked beside her towards the house, with Legolas chewing on his hair. “I’m not going back in today,” he told her. “Elrond kicked me out and told me to take a half day.”

“Why did he kick you out?” she asked in surprise.

“Because he said he can’t stand looking at _puppy-dog eyes_ for the rest of the day,” he chuckled. He nodded. “He knows. He’s known for a while that I had feelings for you, according to him.”

A blush tinged her cheeks as she smiled. “Well I’ll still make you something to eat,” she said.

He held the door open for her, swooping down and kissing her neck as she passed. “Can I eat you?”

“No. I’m not nutritious enough,” she laughed.

“I beg to differ. Legolas, will you _stop_ chewing my hair? It’s not a food source,” he said.

“Give me a minute to wash up and I’ll get the wee one washed too, then I’ll make you something,” she said, kicking off her sneakers.

“You wash up and I’ll see to the Human Hair-Eater here,” he corrected, untangling his hair from his son’s small fists. “You’re a tiny menace, Legolas.”

Alisha chuckled to herself as she made her way through to the downstairs washroom, where she scrubbed her hands and nails free of any loose soil and grass stains. Wiping her hands on the luxuriously soft peach towel, she replaced it and went back through the house. “What do you want to eat?” she asked, filling the kettle.

“I don’t mind,” he replied, still yanking his hair out of Legolas’s reach. “Shall I make you something?”

“No, I’ve got this,” she replied. She opened a cupboard door and chewed on her lip as she perused the contents.

Thranduil watched her, desire burning deep in his abdomen. He wanted nothing more than to tear her shorts down, lean her over the worktop and plunge into her. His teeth clenched. He would have to wait.

“How about blueberry pancakes?” she asked, turning her gaze towards him. “It’s maybe too hot to make something heavy, and you wouldn’t want dinner tonight.”

“Pancakes sounds fine,” he replied.

“Consider it done,” she said, taking the eggs, butter, and blueberries from the fridge. “So…not a productive morning at work then?” A sly smile accompanied her words.

He humphed as he sat down at the table behind her. “According to Elrond, no,” he answered. “He said I was as much use as a chocolate fire guard, and to get out from under his feet.”

Her smile turned into a grin. “Well I certainly won’t object to you being around,” she told him, cracking the eggs into a bowl. “What do you have planned for this afternoon?”

He inhaled deeply, lifting his arms and crossing them behind his head as he watched her move around. The sight of her long shapely legs was driving him insane. His eyes drifted down to her bare feet, slowly gliding back up again to her firm thighs.

She threw a questioning glance over her shoulder at his silence.

“Maybe we could go out somewhere, make the most of this weather,” he said, snapping himself out of his lascivious thoughts and back to her question. What he _really_ wanted to do was bury himself between those thighs and lose himself there for the rest of the week. Or the month. “Or I could take Legolas swimming, and give you an hour or so to yourself.”

“I actually think he’d enjoy swimming,” she said.

“Why don’t you come too?”

She shook her head. “I hate swimming pools,” she replied. “People pee in them…urgh. The thought makes me want to heave.”

He laughed, bringing his arms back down again and resting them on the table. “They use chlorine to keep the water clean.”

“I don’t care if they use battery acid,” she retorted. “I prefer water to be in the bath, if anywhere. Or in my coffee cup.”

A chuckle escaped from him.

“That reminds me, you have mail sitting on the desk in your office,” she said. “I forgot to tell you when you came in. I picked up a bundle from the mailbox.”

“Anything interesting?” he queried, still gazing at her legs.

“I don’t know, I didn’t go through it,” she told him. “Would you make us a coffee, instead of mentally undressing me?”

His head tipped back as he laughed heartily. “Am I that easy to read?” he asked, standing up and stepping around Legolas, seated on the floor with a pile of small cars.

“I can _feel_ you doing it,” she told him. “Not that I mind…”

He stopped as he drew level with her, his nostrils flaring as he stared down at her. “Just say the word,” he whispered.

Her pupils dilated. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as her own lips parted slightly. He slowly closed the gap between them, his warm flesh rubbing erotically over hers in a kiss that screamed of tightly-controlled passion. She gasped into him, her lips parting further, and his tongue dived inside immediately. Her knees trembled as she rested a hand on his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. His mouth moved slowly on hers, every rational thought obliterated from his mind as he lost himself in the feel of her. His hands itched to slide under her top to caress the silken flesh underneath, to move around to her stomach and lift to cup her full breasts, to tease her nipples to aching points. His tongue swept around her mouth, demanding, taking, claiming. She belonged to him.

Heat rushed through her from her toes upwards as she leaned further into him, her body against his. His hand wound around her waist and settled on the small of her back, tugging her closer, and she was vaguely aware of his thumb lazily rubbing her. The need to feel flesh against flesh was overpowering. Her breasts felt swollen pressed against his chest, and she felt dizzy as he pushed a little harder into the kiss.

His other hand wound itself into her hair below her ear, tilting her head back further to allow him deeper access than he already had. Her pulse rate rocketed, and she became aware of liquid heat pooling between her legs. Almost as though he could read her mind, he wedged one thigh between hers, rubbing against her to create friction and ease the deep ache.

She whimpered helplessly, grinding herself against him shamelessly. He broke the kiss, dragging his mouth across her cheek and down to her neck, nibbling and biting as he moved. Her hands lifted to his shoulders and she dug her fingers into the solid muscles. Opening his eyes and glancing through her hair, he saw Legolas had moved and was seated on the floor a few feet outside the door playing with his cars, his back to them and partially obscured by the door frame.

He lowered his hand from her neck and slid it between them, swiftly undoing the button on her denim shorts and lowering the zipper. She moaned wantonly as he delved inside past her underwear, his fingers cupping her and rubbing the soaked flesh. Her legs trembled as he pushed a finger into her, pumping in and out in a seductive rhythm as she moved with him.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, turning her face into his hair as she clung to him for support.

“You are so turned on, baby,” he murmered against her. “Damn…you’re so hot and wet for me…”

A garbled cry left her throat and she bit her lip hard, his finger withdrawing and becoming two instead. He plunged deeper, the heel of his hand rubbing against her clitoris with each thrust. Closing his mouth over a particularly sensitive area over her pulse point, he sucked hard.

She began to pant as she bucked against his hand. The kitchen seemed to blur as she groggily opened her eyes, closing them again as waves of dizziness washed over her.

“I want to feel you erupt for me,” he whispered, his wet tongue licking the skin he’d just marked. “Come for me, baby…come hard for me. Let me feel you.” His other hand remained at her back, crushing her against him, and for that, she was eternally thankful. Without the support, she was certain she’d have slid to a boneless heap at his feet.

His fingers moved faster, pushing deeper. She sucked in a huge lungful of air as stars began to flash and pop behind her closed eyelids, and the world felt like it was tilting underneath her. She pushed down hard, taking as much as he could give in their unexpected and passionate few moments of being uninterrupted.

He smiled against her as he continued licking and biting her, feeling her body beginning to tense and her inner muscles tighten around his intrusion. His hand was drenched, and he knew she had more to give; it was just a matter of tipping her over the edge to make her release it.

She arched against him, lifting one leg and curling it around his waist. Garbled noises left her throat in a strangled cry as she peaked, her orgasm violent in strength as it flooded through her. His arm tightened around her even more as she convulsed, his strength taking her full weight.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, kissing his way back to her mouth. “Keep coming. Keep coming for me.” His mouth covered hers as she whimpered and moaned in an attempt to silence her from his child’s sharp hearing. Her body rocked in his arms as he slowly wound down his movements, leaving his fingers inside her for a few moments as the waves of her climax slowly ebbed. He pulled back with a smile. “You needed that.”

She panted hard, resting her forehead against his shoulder, and felt the quake of his almost silent laughter ripple through him. “What’s so bloody funny?” she demanded breathlessly.

“Not a thing, my darling,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “I love it when you come. You seem to explode.”

“I don’t think I can stand,” she mumbled against him, making him laugh more.

“That’s not a problem,” he told her, slowly and carefully sliding his fingers from her. She squealed in surprise as he swept her up into his arms, and he chuckled as he carried her over to the chair he’d been sitting in, gently lowering her onto it. “I’ll make the pancakes.” A swift but fierce kiss halted the exclamation that she was about to respond with, and he pulled back with a wicked smile.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, drawing her still-shaking legs together and leaning her elbows on the table.

“But you love me,” he said softly.

“I do,” she replied, a lump of strong emotion manifesting in her throat. Blinking determinedly, she swallowed and her eyes darted away.

He tipped her chin back to him. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said shakily.

One eyebrow lifted.

She touched a hand to his cheek, gazing up into his ice blue eyes. “You spoil me,” she whispered.

“No, I do not,” he said. “I treat you the way you _should_ be treated. I worship you, I adore you, I love you. And everything I say and do will reflect that. You just haven’t been shown affection before, my darling, that is all. A man who is this deeply in love will move mountains to make sure his lover knows how precious she is to him. And nothing less will be good enough. Get used to it, sweetheart.” He dropped another kiss onto her mouth before turning and taking up where she’d left off preparing the pancakes.

She blinked as she gazed at him, stunned at the depth of his emotions and his commitment to her.


	18. Chapter 18

** CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

 

A few days passed.

Each night, Thranduil wound his hand through Alisha’s and wordlessly led her upstairs and directly into his bedroom. No words were spoken, no questions asked, no explanations offered. Each morning she awoke snuggled against his chest, his arms holding her tightly in place.

She loved it.

He taught her things about her body that she never knew. An inner knowledge seemed to guide him as he spent hours and hours licking and tasting her, touching and teasing her, exploring her in ways that no other had ever even contemplated. His hands and mouth never tired in their efforts to bring new ways to please and satisfy her, his mind constantly coming up with different methods of bringing her to a screaming climax. He prioritised her needs over his own, and was selfless in his love-making. Time and time again he reduced her to an orgasm-induced wreck before seeking his own pleasure.

She’d never felt so treasured.

The nights passed in a haze of tender kisses, soft touches, tender caresses; each one designed to lift her higher and higher. Mornings brought dreamy gazes and sleepy smiles, loving embraces and kisses sweeter than she’d ever imagined. The couple shared tasks around the house, cooking together and feeding each other little bits of what they were preparing, changing bedsheets and usually ending up toppling down onto them in a flurry of kisses and touches.

And each day, another threat arrived in the post.

Alisha decided not to tell Thranduil. He had enough to contend with, still waking sometimes during the night with horrific dreams which projected him into a state of breathlessness and tears as he battled against them. The court case was still heavy on his mind, with another unannounced visit from the court officials, and Gandalf had stopped calling him with updates. He didn’t need the pointless worry over ridiculous threats being sent from a pair of brain-dead idiots.

She stuffed each one in her underwear drawer, with the thought that she’d either destroy them, or present them to the judge at their next hearing.

*****

“You know that you can change anything in the house,” Thranduil said suddenly.

She looked up at him, forgetting momentarily the pack of fresh beef she had in her hands. “What?”

“The house,” he repeated. “You can change anything that you wish to.”

“Why would I want to?” she asked with a frown.

He shrugged. “I chose the furniture and the colour schemes to suit myself, as a single parent,” he explained. “I’m not a single parent anymore.”

“And your point is?” She tossed the beef into the shopping cart, out of Legolas’s reach as he twisted in the seat to grab it.

“Am I speaking another language? If you want to redecorate, or change things, then do so,” he said.

“There’s nothing wrong with the house,” she told him. “Did you have your coffee before we came out?”

He laughed. “Yes. What I mean is, the house isn’t very feminine, so you can do what you want with it,” he told her. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to change anything,” she said. “You’ve gone mad, babe. I love the house. It’s…it’s _you…_ does that make any sense?”

He twisted his mouth to one side. “Kind of.”

“So leave it,” she said, moving along the aisle. “Sweet and sour pork for dinner?”

“Please, and stop changing the subject,” he said, following her with the cart. “I mean why don’t you add your own touches? Make your mark on the place?”

“I’ve already started with the garden, that’s enough to keep me occupied for the time being,” she answered, scrutinizing the label on a jar of sauce. “I might be lazy tonight and cheat,” she murmered, half to herself.

“That’s not like you.”

“No, but I’m a bit tired,” she admitted, placing the jar into the cart.

“Did some bad person wake you up too early this morning?” he teased.

“Yes. You might know him. Big, tall bloke…long blonde hair and an arse I could sink my teeth into,” she retorted.

“Sounds like a despicable person,” he said softly, standing right behind her.

“He is,” she replied, looking up at him over her shoulder. “He has endless energy and an everlasting sex drive.”

She jumped in surprise as he swooped down at speed and captured her mouth with his own, drawing a deep murmer from her as his lips devoured her. He didn’t care that they were in the middle of the supermarket. He wanted to kiss her, and nothing was going to stop him.

“Mmm,” she smiled as he slowly pulled away. “I like.”

“Good,” he answered, pushing the cart past her. “I aim to please.”

She grinned as she followed him, catching the wide-eyed stares from a trio of teenaged girls who were openly ogling him.

He _did_ catch quite a lot of stares, from both genders. Being so tall, and having impossibly long, straight, flowing blonde hair that was the envy of every female in a thirty-block radius, and the iciest blue eyes she had ever seen, male and female alike always looked twice in appreciation. A warm feeling settled in her stomach as she walked behind him, knowing that he belonged to her.

“Can we stop off at the drugstore?” she asked as they approached the check stands.

“Of course,” he replied, loading their groceries onto the conveyor belt. “What do you need? And more to the point, why are you asking me?”

“I need some hair dye and some shampoo,” she told him. “And I’m asking because it’s you who’s driving, and you might want to head straight home.”

He gave her a look that promptly shut her up, before resuming piling the shopping up to be scanned. “We’ll go by the drug store,” he said firmly. “Legolas, give me that, please.” A small tug-o-war ensued, with the younger Oropherion refusing to relinquish his hold on a packet of frozen peas. Alisha picked up a lollipop, got the assistant to scan it, and quickly handed it to him in exchange for the peas.

Grinning triumphantly at Thranduil, she moved to the other end and pulled her purse from her jeans pocket.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, shoving her gently with his shoulder and producing his credit card.

“Hey,” she objected, trying to push back against him. It was like trying to move an oak tree. Changing tactics, she ducked round in front of him and squeezed her body in between his and the check stand. He moved her again, so she tried it a second time.

Tutting and shaking his head, he bodily lifted her and dumped her into the shopping cart, handing the assistant his card.

Alisha squealed and tried to scramble out of the cart, accompanied by the assistant’s helpless laughter.

“You have _no_ idea what she’s like at home,” he told the woman. “She’s a menace.”

“You’re a shit!” she hissed, managing to get out of the thing without tipping it over. “Don’t take his card – he stole it!”

He bit his lower lip as he laughed, shaking his head. “She escaped from the secure hospital,” he explained.

“You are so dead when we get home!” she spat.

“Oh my God…you guys have made my day,” the woman laughed, wiping tears of amusement away as she returned his card after processing it. “If only all my customers were this entertaining!”

Alisha shoved him with both hands as he replaced his card, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He still didn’t move. Grunting in frustration, she gave up and began taking the grocery sacks from the bagger, only to have him take them from her.

“You push the cart, I will load it up,” he told her.

“Ooo, you make me mad!” she grumbled under her breath.

He merely grinned at her, thanking the assistant and leading his family from the store. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked once outside, still laughing.

“You! You won’t let me pay for anything!” she said.

“And you are complaining why?” was his response.

“I eat half the food, so I should take a turn at paying,” she retorted.

He stopped, blocking her way and leaning both hands on the end of the cart. His ice blue eyes met hers over the top of his son’s head. “You are my wife, Alisha,” he said softly. “I am your husband. It is my role to provide for you. Do not try to take that away from me.”

“But you pay me a good wage,” she reminded him.

His eyes darkened briefly. “Let’s get this loaded and get what you need from the drug store,” he said, effectively halting the conversation. He turned from her without another word, hitting the button on his key to unlock the SUV. She lifted Legolas from the seat and secured him in his car seat, making sure his seat belt was safely fastened as she dodged the lollipop being waved around like a flag.

He returned the cart and climbed into the car, flashing her a smile as he slid his own seat belt into place. “Drug store?” he asked, starting the car.

“Please,” she replied. “I think it’s just the two things I need.”

“You don’t need painkillers?”

She shook her head, aware that the air was different between them. “No. I only use them when it gets really severe, and I’ve got a lot left from last month,” she told him. “I don’t like taking them, being honest.”

“I understand, but they are there for your benefit,” he said, steering the car out of the lot. “You have an excruciatingly painful condition, and there’s no point in suffering when there is an answer.”

“I suppose there’s logic in that,” she admitted. “I don’t feel in control though; they make me a bit fuzzy.”

“All the more reason for me to stay close when you do need them,” he said.

The drive across town didn’t take long, and he parked a short walk along from the drug store in the only space he could find.

“I won’t be a minute,” she said with a smile, getting out of the car.

“No hurry, take your time,” he told her.

She made her way along the sidewalk, dipping past people meandering their way long. The store smelled of something that reminded her strongly of antibiotics as she went inside and headed for the aisle which was home to the hair dye she wanted. A quick glance along the shelves and she found her preferred brand and colour, and picked up two packs. She muttered to herself as she rounded the corner in search of shampoo, and accidentally bumped into someone as she was preoccupied.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. Her heart missed a beat.

Venomous eyes glared at her. “You will be,” the man hissed.

It was the husband of Legolas’s mother’s cousin.

“Enjoying your cosy life together, playing families with what’s rightfully ours?” he growled.

“Get a grip,” she retorted. “Legolas belongs with his father, not someone who’s never taken the time to even meet him. Get out of my way.” She went to move past him, but his arm shot out and he gripped her arm just above her elbow.

“Be careful,” he warned.

“Or what? You’ll send me more threatening letters?” she spat back. “I thought you’d be getting bored by now.”

“And I thought that bastard you married would have given in by now,” he said.

“Well you don’t know him well enough, do you? Have fun with your childish games, but they’re not having any effect on me or mine,” she said. “Let me go.”

His grip tightened. “This had better work out in our favour,” he threatened.

“And if it doesn’t?” she demanded. “Who the fuck d’you think you are?! Get your damned hands off me, or I’ll scream the fucking store down, you low-down piece of shit.”

Angry eyes glared at her for several long seconds, and she could feel her arm losing feeling with the restricted blood flow. He eventually wrenched his hand away, twisting her limb to one side in the process.

“Make this happen,” he told her, barging past her and walloping her shoulder with his.

She took a deep breath and shook her head, angry that he’d approached her in the middle of a public area. What if she’d had Legolas with her? Would he have attempted to take him from her?

The thought chilled her.

At least Thranduil had an imposing presence, and she didn’t think the guy would try anything if he was close. She’d never seen him being violent. But somehow she knew deep inside that he could take care of himself. Her memory went back to the night she’d gone down to Ted’s study, and found he’d destroyed it. The desk alone must have weighed at least three times her weight, yet he’d flipped it over single-handedly in his rage.

She inhaled deeply a couple of times, steadying herself emotionally. Rolling her shoulders in determination, she found the shampoo and picked the bottle she wanted, crossing back over to the cashier to pay for her purchases. She swept a glance around the store as she left, making sure the guy had already gone, before heading back towards the car.

Thranduil smiled at her as she slid back into her seat and closed the door. “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.

“Yes, although they’ve moved things around in there,” she answered. “I think I needed a map.”

He chuckled, guiding the vehicle smoothly back into the flow of traffic. “If you’re tired sweetheart, I can make dinner tonight,” he told her. “Perhaps you should rest and take it easy.”

“I’m ok,” she said. “I was going to make a rhubarb crumble later, if I can be bothered.”

“Sounds delicious,” he grinned. “Legolas, what are you doing?” He frowned at his child in the rear view mirror.

Alisha turned in her seat and laughed.

His little hands were holding an invisible steering wheel. “Dwiving, like daddy,” he said, as though his father had asked the most stupid question known to man. “I dwive car.”

“Just when I think he can’t get any cuter,” she laughed, turning back to face the front again. “I wonder what you were like at that age?”

“An intolerable train-wreck,” he retorted immediately. “My father once told me that the fires of hell wouldn’t have stopped me from getting myself into trouble. Apparently I was an inquisitive child, into everything and dismantling whatever I could get my hands on to see how it worked.”

She smiled at the thought. “It’s not difficult to imagine.”

He smiled, lapsing into silence again as he concentrated on the road ahead and the traffic around them. She contented herself with watching the scenery whip past them.

*****

Alisha’s eyes were closed. So were Thranduil’s.

He sat lounged back on the couch, his thighs parted, with her sat between them, her back resting against his chest and her head on his shoulder. One arm lay draped across the back of the couch, the other was wrapped around her. Her bare feet were propped up on the low coffee table. The room was silent.

“Every night I take you up the stairs and take you into my room,” he said quietly, breaking the serenity.

She hummed in agreement.

“And every morning you get up and go through to your room to prepare for the day.”

She hummed again, too contented and relaxed to verbalise anything.

He shifted forward, shifting her out of her state of deep relaxation, and turned her head so she was looking up at him. “Move into my room,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened, surprise clear in the dark blue that gazed into his.

His jaw clenched briefly as he searched her eyes, looking for something. “Make this real,” he said softly. “Become mine in every sense of the word. Make this marriage a reality, make it the truth of what we have between us.”

She swallowed, taken aback by the emotion that flushed through her. Her heart was beating hard, and his gaze lowered to the throbbing pulse visible in the side of her neck, before going back to her eyes.

“I love you so much,” he said, in the same sultry whisper. “I want you to be my wife in every way, and I want to share everything with you. My hopes, my dreams, my fears, my failures and my successes. I want you by my side and in my arms always, without having to worry in case you say you want to sleep in your own room. I want us to fight over closet space, to argue over who uses the shower first and who used the last bath towel. I want to go to pick up my shoes and pick up your sneakers instead. I want you to steal the bedcovers. I want my bed to be yours, because my heart is yours.”

A silent tear slid down her cheek. She shifted from his hold and turned to straddle his legs, gripping his hair with both fists as she crashed her mouth against his in a desperate kiss. His hands automatically went to her waist, pulling her flusher against him as he responded, his blood flowing faster as the contact became so much more intimate.

She pulled back breathlessly, tears still rolling down her face. “I’d love that,” she whispered brokenly, through a weak smile. “I want to be a part of all that.”

“How long have you felt like this?” he asked softly, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her skin under her light sweater.

“Since almost the beginning,” she answered, her tone quiet and subdued. “Since we first slept together, the day of the freeway accident.”

Ice blue stared at her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shook her head slightly. “I didn’t want to push you,” she told him. “I knew I was on fragile ground, and didn’t want to push you too hard or too fast. I’d have taken whatever you wanted to give me.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, his chest expanding against hers. “You are mad,” he said. “I’ve wanted you so badly for weeks, Alisha, weeks and weeks. I think I fell in love even before we married. And the day you walked down the aisle carrying Legolas, I knew I was lost forever. I knew I would never be the same.”

She studied him, seeing the truth and honesty that reflected in his blue eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever be lucky enough to be in love like this,” she admitted, her thumbs rubbing his cheeks. “And I definitely didn’t think I’d be lucky enough for you to love me back.”

“Well I do, and more than anything I can describe,” he told her. “This isn’t just about fighting a court case anymore, my darling…this is about the rest of our lives…if you’ll have me.”

She closed her eyes as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks.

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, his soft mouth kissing the moisture away. “Please don’t get upset. It kills me when I see you upset.” His lips tenderly drifted over her skin, settling against her own. She parted them with a soft whimper, accepting the slow, wet kiss he gave her. “I love you so much,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She leaned her forehead against his, savouring the feeling of belonging right where she was – cradled in his arms on his lap. “I love you more than anything,” she whispered back. “Yes…I’ll move into your room. I want to be with you, not just for sex. For everything.”

He tightened his arms around her, rocking her from side to side as she rested her head against the side of his neck.

Everything in the world felt right.

*****

The following morning, the air seemed different.

Alisha smiled before she even opened her eyes, which Thranduil picked up on immediately, lying next to her propped up on one elbow watching her. He leaned over and kissed her softly.

“Good morning,” he said, pulling up a little. His long hair tickled her neck as he moved and it shifted. “You look happy this morning.”

Her smile widened. “Maybe I am happy,” she responded. Her body arched towards his with a soft sigh of contentment. “Did you sleep ok?”

He nodded. “I slept better last night than I have in quite a while,” he told her. “I think maybe my mind is more relaxed, more contented?” He shrugged. “It felt right, whatever it was.”

She stretched, before flipping away from him and sliding out of the warm bed. “I need to pee,” she grumbled on her way to the en suite.

“Shall I make breakfast?” he asked, his voice a little louder to carry through the door to her. “Legolas is still out for the count.”

“I’ll get it, honey,” she replied. “I quite enjoy making breakfast in the mornings. It kind of sets me up for the day.”

“I’ll allow you if you agree to something,” he said with a wicked tone. “We share a shower afterwards.”

The toilet flushed and she reappeared, tightening the sash of her robe. “I like the sound of that,” she admitted. “But you know I’m going to make breakfast anyway.”

He chuckled as she padded out of the bedroom door, mesmerised by the sway of her ass as she disappeared. Tugging on his jeans and the t-shirt he’d worn the night before, he slid out of the room on a mission while she was busy downstairs. He crept past his son’s door, and slipped into the one beside it, where she used to sleep.

A smirk formed on his mouth as he began quietly emptying the closet and laying the garments on the bed. The sooner she officially shared his space, the better, and he wasn’t going to lose any ground on it. He turned to the drawers, laughing softly as he lifted a flimsy pair of knickers adorned with transparent lace between his forefinger and thumb, holding them aloft for inspection.

He could have some s _erious_ fun taking them down with his teeth.

They floated down onto the growing pile as the smirk became a grin, and he scooped both hands into the drawer, lifting the entire load of underwear.

A pile of envelopes slipped out and slid across the floor.

He set the clothing down on the bed and stooped to retrieve them, a slight frown on his face. Why would she hide mail in her underwear?

One of the sheets had fallen loose, and he automatically opened it.

His jaw dropped in horror, his eyes wide.

_I’LL STITCH YOUR MOUTH CLOSED SO YOU CAN’T SCREAM_


	19. Chapter 19

** CHAPTER NINETEEN **

****

Alisha lifted the jar of coffee from the cupboard and closed the door back over. She jumped in fright as a pile of paper appeared over her shoulder and was thrown down onto the worktop.

Her heart stopped.

She stood frozen for a few seconds, not knowing how to deal with the situation. And the silence from the giant who stood behind her was enough to tell her that it _was_ a situation. An ugly one, at that.

“I was gathering your clothes to move them through to our room,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “I thought I was doing you a favour by helping you. Then I find this.”

She took a deep breath and slowly turned to face him.

“I didn’t want you to find out about these,” she said quietly. “That’s why I put them some place I didn’t think you would go.” Her eyes were fixed on his shoulder.

A silence stretched between them.

“What part of you thought that I should not know of this?” he asked eventually.

She chose her answer carefully. “The part of me that understands how much pressure you’re already under,” she said. “You have a lot on your mind right now.”

The silence resumed, weighing heavy in the air around her. She slowly lifted her eyes to his, to see a storm brewing.

“And you felt that by keeping this from me, you were doing me a favour?” he said.

She opened her mouth to respond but he moved before she could utter a word, whirling round and grabbing the kitchen table, flipping it right over with a resounding crash. He turned back to her, fury blazing in the ice blue that held her still without touching her.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” he roared. “Somebody makes threats on your life, and you don’t tell me? Did you think this was going to go away? Just disappear into thin air?”

“I…” she started, then stopped.

His chest heaved as he breathed hard, fighting the rage that tore through him. “This is not a fucking joke, Alisha, this is _deadly_ serious,” he hissed, closing in on her.

She instinctively backed away and bumped into the worktop behind her.

“I think it’s pretty clear who’s been sending these,” he shouted, waving a hand towards the letters scattered beside her. “This should have been brought to my attention as soon as it began! The judge will have to know about this! I’ll need to arrange for protection for you!”

“No you don’t,” she said, several emotions fighting to claim priority in her mind. Guilt about not telling him, fear because of the depth of his anger, and shame because she hadn’t thought about making the judge aware straight away. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not when you have my child with you!” he thundered. “My son must be protected at all times, and as my wife, so should you! What the fuck is going on in your mind, Alisha? You should’ve come straight to me with this, not hidden it away like some dirty secret!”

“I didn’t!” she yelled back. “I just thought you had enough to work through right now, without this shit on top of it! What the hell’s wrong with you?! I’m trying to do what’s best for _you,_ and keep this crap away from you!”

“ _Do not_ presume to know what’s best for me,” he spat, leaning down so he was inches from her. “I thought we’d cleared an obstacle last night, I honestly felt that things had changed between us. Perhaps I was wrong.”

Her jaw dropped in astonishment. “You bastard,” she whispered. “Stop throwing your toys out of the pram and grow up!”

“Grow up?” he repeated incredulously. “Let me remind you that I am _not_ the one hiding threatening hate mail in my fucking underwear drawer!”

“I’ve told you why I didn’t tell you!” Her voice had risen to almost screaming pitch, her own anger taking control. “You couldn’t have done anything about it anyway! They’re going to come whether you know about them or not!”

“These people can be stopped,” he snarled. “And they should have been, after the first one! There must be eleven or twelve threats here!”

“And?” she shot back. “Do I look like they bother me? No, because they don’t. They’ve come from a pathetic arsehole who’s desperately trying to intimidate us! I’m not that easily intimidated – I never have been, and I don’t intend to start now! I have a backbone, and it’s served me well over the years!”

“You may not have it for much longer!” he snapped, swiping a hand out and grabbing the pile of letters. “Because according to one of these, you’re going to have it ripped out bone by fucking bone!”

“Scare tactics,” she retorted. “And they didn’t work.”

“Well they fucking _should_ have!” he yelled. “This stinks of a psychopath Alisha, and you’re treating it like it’s a damned cartoon drawing or something! Why are you not taking this seriously, goddammit?!”

“Because it’s juvenile tactics from immature fuckwits who can’t come up with something more inventive!” she yelled back.

He glared down at her, furious that she hadn’t told him. She glared back up at him, furious that she’d got herself into such a predicament. She didn’t want to fight with him, but she’d done what she thought was best in an effort to protect him. And it had gone horribly wrong.

The sound of Legolas stirring drifted through the baby monitor.

The two of them continued to snarl at each other, until she finally made a move.

“You can stand there and act all fucking put out and masterful if you want to,” she snapped, stepping past him. “I’m going to see to Legolas.”

He clenched his teeth as she stormed out, his fist scrunching the letters he held as he fought to control himself.

*****

Elrond lifted his gaze from the papers spread across the desk, his grey eyes focusing on his partner. Thranduil looked exhausted.

“What do you intend to do?” he asked.

Thranduil shrugged, rubbing his temples with his fingertips in an attempt to dissolve the headache that was gathering behind his eyes. “I have to inform the police, and I need to call that stubborn, opinionated ass of an attorney of mine, and make sure he lets the judge know,” he replied. “I’m so angry, El; she should have told me about this.”

Elrond lifted his eyebrows in a gesture of acknowledgement. “Maybe so. But I can see both sides. She obviously didn’t want to burden you any further. She knows you have a lot on your mind right now.”

“Yes, I do, and this has doubled it,” he snapped.

“Which will be exactly why she didn’t tell you,” the reply came. “Look, I know your pride probably more than anything is wounded, but she’s only trying to do what’s best for you. How many women think like that? Most women I know would have run to their husbands crying and wailing, playing the whole _damsel-in-distress_ routine to the limit. She didn’t. She’s strong, and she’s playing this marriage equally to you.”

Thranduil frowned. “What do you mean?”

His friend sat back and sighed. “I mean that she isn’t running to you with every sniffle and cough,” he explained. “She sees your problems as her problems. She’s sharing responsibility where she can. She’s not a wilting flower Thran, and the worst thing you can do is peg her as one. She’ll bite you if you do, and bite you hard. And I don’t mean the big-assed bite on your neck either.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, tugging on his shirt collar.

“Maybe this is what Gandalf meant when he went off his head,” Elrond told him.

“Fuck Gandalf,” he retorted. “What happens between Alisha and I is none of his business.”

“But this is,” Elrond said pointedly as he pushed the letters back across the desk towards him. “Call him and do something about this. If it helps, you can all come and stay at mine for a while, see if this blows over.”

The blonde shook his head. “Thankyou, but no,” he sighed. “We hardly started out as a conventional couple…we need time to adjust and settle with the direction our relationship has taken. Crashing with you wouldn’t help that.”

Elrond snorted softly. “With what you’ve told me of your battle this morning, you might not _have_ much of a relationship,” he said. “Throwing the kitchen table upside down wasn’t a smart move.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled. “My temper got the better of me.”

“And you think that’s going to impress her? Jesus…think again.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Ok, get your arse out of here. I need to make a few calls, try and fix this whole fucking mess. Shit…can you handle the Garrison meeting for me? I need time to try and sort this out.”

“Of course I can,” Elrond replied, sliding off the desk. “Although…” He trailed off.

Thranduil frowned. “What?”

“Ever think that maybe this is the _exact_ reason she didn’t tell you?” He pointed at him, before turning and leaving the office, leaving a rather exasperated business partner behind.

*****

“Bowman Investigations.”

Thranduil swivelled around in his seat. “Bard,” he said in greeting. “Thranduil.”

“Heyyy, Thran! How are you, man?” the cheery voice in his ear said.

He smiled. He could hear the grin in his friend’s voice. “I’m alright, and yourself? How are the kids?”

“Growing every day and eating me out of house and home,” the reply came. “I heard you got married.”

“Yes…that’s what I need to talk to you about,” he said. “Have you got time to meet with me? I have something I’d appreciate your input on.”

“Sounds ominous,” his friend answered. “That’s no problem, can you do this afternoon? I’m free for a few hours.”

“Perfect,” Thranduil replied, ending the call and setting his phone onto the desk. He took a deep breath and turned his gaze towards the window.

A few hours later, a very serious pair of eyes stared into his from across the desk. Elbows leaned onto the wooden surface, hands raised supporting the bearded chin above them. “So what you’re saying, is you’ve fallen in love for real?”

Thranduil sighed for the seventeenth time in less than half an hour. “Yes.”

Bard’s face lit up in a broad grin. “Congratulations, man!” he yelled, jumping to his feet and leaning over to thump his arm. “Good on you! I wondered if you’d ever find a woman capable of handling you! It’s about bloody time too! I have to meet this woman!”

He smiled. “You will,” he assured him. “But I need to fix this.” He indicated to the letters which were in front of his friend. “I hit the roof when I found them.”

Bard raised his eyebrows as he looked down at them. “I don’t blame you,” he admitted. “This reeks of frustration, each note becoming more and more vicious. I don’t think it’ll be long before they show their hand.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said quietly. “Alisha means the world to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to her. She seems to think it’s just mindless threats, a way of trying to intimidate her.”

“She’s not concerned at all?” Bard’s brown eyes lifted to his.

He shook his head. “No.”

“She sounds like one tough cookie,” Bard commented. “Ok. I need to do some background work on the cousins…you’re certain that these have come from them?”

“There is no-one else who has a grudge against her,” Thranduil told him. “She spent the last nine years nursing my uncle, with virtually no contact with anyone other than him. Then she came to work for me when he died. Anyone she knows now is through me, people I know.”

The dark haired man nodded. “So it fits together then – the cousins are trying to push her out of the equation and make it easier to win the court case,” he said. “I assume nobody else that you’re in contact with would have any reason?”

“No. She’s only been introduced to close friends so far, and nobody could have an issue with her,” he answered. “She’s fitted in perfectly, and everybody so far has really taken to her. It can only be the two idiots in the custody battle.”

Bard nodded again. “I’ll get back to you when I have something solid to work with,” he said, sliding the sheets of paper across the desk. “In the meantime, get Gandalf to have a look at these and photograph them, then get them into the hands of the police. They need to know about this too.”

“Yes, I’ve already left a message with Gandalf; he’s coming through before close of business today,” Thranduil told him. “Once he’s had a look and done what he needs to do, I’ll drop in at the precinct on my way home.”

“Good.” Bard rose to his feet, extending his hand. “Take care of yourself, man.”

The two men exchanged a firm handshake which spoke of years of friendship and trust.

*****

It was late by the time Thranduil finally got home. He’d spent over an hour debating the situation with Gandalf, who agreed that the judge should be informed immediately. A telephone call later and the attorney was bustling out with photos of the letters, muttering away about missing his game of golf and other things that he deemed to be wrong in the world.

Thranduil had decided to call it a day at work, having achieved practically nothing. Elrond had ordered him to quit and get down to the police precinct with the letters, and make someone listen to him and deal with them.

Having taken his advice, he’d had to wait for another hour before he could have a face-to-face meeting with one of the detectives on duty, who as it happened, was appalled at the venom in the notes. He’d assured him that his wife would come to no harm and the matter would be dealt with, and Thranduil had tactfully refrained from parting with the information that Bard was on the case as well.

The more the merrier, the way he looked at it.

He’s suggested hiring a bodyguard for her, but the detective had promised there was no need. He and his partner would get straight on the situation, and as the judge was being made aware, the couple wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.

Finally satisfied that something would come of it, Thranduil had left and headed home; weary and drained.

He’d missed Alisha.

He needed to hold her in his arms, kiss her, and tell her how much she meant to him, and to make up for their fight earlier on that morning.

The house was in darkness by the time he pulled up. A wave of regret washed over him as he climbed out of the car, as he thought to himself that he should’ve called her during the day to try and put things right between them.

The note taped to the fridge door telling him his dinner was ready just to be reheated in the microwave lifted his spirits a little – she hadn’t completely closed him out if she’d still set a meal aside for him coming home, late though it was.

Thinking he’d have it later, he trudged up the carpeted stairway, his feet feeling like they each weighed around half an elephant’s weight. He walked into his bedroom and stopped.

The room lay in darkness, the bed untouched.

A few seconds passed before he moved, going over to the closet and sliding the door open. The space he’d cleared for Alisha’s clothes was still empty.

His shoulders sagged as he closed the door again, the earlier feeling of regret flooding back to the fore once more. He kicked off his shoes and left his room, checking on Legolas in the room next to his. His son lay on his back, snoring softly, one arm wrapped around his favourite stuffed toy.

He smiled. In a world full of chaos and upheaval, the little boy remained a consistent source of strength, and had managed to drag him from the darkest depths of despair many times. The door closed silently as he turned towards the next door.

He didn’t bother knocking.

Alisha was sitting on top of her bed reading, and looked up at him as he entered the room.

His eyes swept the room, his confusion clear in the ice blue depths.

Her clothes were still piled up the way he’d left them that morning, although she’d moved them onto a chair in the corner. His gaze met hers, questions clear in the way he looked at her.

“Alisha?” he said softly, stepping further into the room. “I…what’s going on?”

She blinked and looked away from him. “Nothing.”

“I don’t understand,” he murmered. “I thought…I thought that we were sharing a room.”

Tears burned her eyes and she blinked hard to dispel them.

“Have you changed your mind?” His question was asked in the softest voice, the hurt and confusion abundant the way he spoke.

She swallowed forcibly. “I didn’t think after this morning that you’d want to share a room with me,” she answered. Her own voice was heavy with the need to cry.

“Alisha…no!” he said, distraught. He swept over to her, dropping onto his knees at the side of the bed, removing her book and taking both her hands in his. “You’ve …oh my God…this has become such a mess. I _want_ to share a room with you. I _need_ to share a room with you. Please don’t ever think otherwise, my darling. I love you so much…”

Her tears won the battle and started to slide down her cheeks.

“Baby, you mean everything to me,” he whispered. “I am _so_ sorry for over-reacting this morning. I shouldn’t have gone mad like that, I’m sorry. I was so worried, so upset that you hadn’t come to me with those damned letters. I don’t want anything to happen to you, sweetheart, please try to understand that.”

“I do,” she said brokenly. “I honestly didn’t want to give you any more to worry about. I’m worried about how much you have on your shoulders already, Thranduil – you can’t take any more on board.” She sniffed. “I just wanted to protect you, that’s all.”

He rose up onto his knees, pressing his mouth against hers. “I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I know.” His thumbs caressed her hands as he leaned his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her as he breathed. “I shouldn’t have become so angry with you this morning. I should’ve listened to you and been more calm. My behaviour was unacceptable.”

She shook her head a little, still sniffing. “I get why you were angry,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry I made you like that.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her. “You should not be the one apologising, you have done nothing wrong,” he said. “I overreacted. You only did what you thought was best for me. That’s no reason for me to shout and yell the way I did.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on his shoulder as his warm hands lovingly caressed her back. The day had been long and difficult, with clear memories of their yelling and screaming replaying over and over in her mind. Time had passed and the daylight had faded, leaving her wondering if he was going to return home. Only the fact that Legolas was there had settled her, as she knew he wouldn’t leave his child.

“I missed you today,” he said quietly. “I needed you. This whole thing this morning shouldn’t have happened; I should have handled it better than I did. I’m sorry. I love you.”

She lifted her head up and he brushed his mouth over hers, whispering softly. She murmered in response, parting her lips to give him access, and whimpered as his tongue slowly took advantage with soft, gentle teasing movements. Her hands wound around his neck, tugging him closer as she lost herself in his kiss. Soothing waves of warmth swept through her as the kiss deepened while still maintaining the slow, seductive sensuality.

She broke away, breathless. “I need you,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. “I need you so bad…what have you done to me?” A soft laugh escaped as she blushed.

He smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek as he rose to his feet and tugged her off the bed. “Nothing compared to what you have done to me,” he replied. His eyes grew serious as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “Will you come through to our room?”

Her insides melted at the way he asked the question. “Yes,” she answered.

“Will you let me make love to you? Show you the stars and what lies beyond them?”

“Yes.”

“Will you let me cherish you and adore you, and show you how special you are?”

She smiled, standing up on her toes and touching her mouth to his. “Yes,” she whispered. A squeal left her as he dropped his height, sliding his hands around the back of her legs and hoisted her up, settling her thighs tightly around his waist. Swift strides took them both out of her room into the corridor, where he wasted no time in marching to their shared room, kicking the door open and booting it closed behind them.


	20. Chapter 20

** CHAPTER TWENTY **

****

“Gandalf called this morning and said the judge has ordered us to appear before him at nine thirty tomorrow morning,” Thranduil said, kicking leaves aside as he walked.

Beside him, Bard nodded his approval. “Good. This needs to be addressed, and right away,” he said. “Have the police been in touch?”

He shook his head, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. “Not yet. I’m not too worried though. I’m not letting Alisha out of my sight.”

On the other side on him, she slid an arm through his as they strolled slowly. “This is what I didn’t want,” she said.

“You have to let him watch out for you though, Alisha,” Bard told her. “Think what it would be like if the situations were reversed, and he was being threatened. You’d feel protective too. It’s natural.”

“I suppose so,” she sighed.

“At the moment, all I can come up with is multiple insurance claims,” he continued, speaking to both of them. “That doesn’t prove anything towards the threats, but it does highlight a classic case of greed and the need for money. The judge might look at it like that, or he might dismiss it until we have more proof.”

Thranduil held up a low-hanging tree branch, allowing her to pass underneath. “Either way, they won’t get within a mile of her,” he vowed. “I’ll kill them with my own hands to protect her.”

Bard grinned. “I like this side of you,” he said flippantly. “I haven’t seen it before.”

Alisha grinned as her husband glared at his friend.

“I will protect what is mine,” he snarled. “And those pieces of filth will not get near her or my child.”

Legolas shifted slightly against her shoulder, sound asleep in her arms as they walked. Her arms automatically tightened slightly around the snuffling infant.

“Is Elrond babysitting tomorrow, or are you taking him along?” Bard questioned.

“No, Elrond is coming over,” she replied. “I don’t think the courtroom is a good environment for him. There’s too much hostility in there when we’re all in the same space.”

“Speaking of hostility,” Thranduil said. “Where did you get those marks on your left arm?”

She froze for a spilt second, enough for him to feel the tension flare through her. “I must have bumped against something,” she replied.

He stopped, moving to stand before her. “Do not keep things from me, Alisha,” he said, shaking his head. “Please do not keep things from me.”

Bard stopped also, watching the pair with interest.

She swallowed, looking downwards.

Thranduil gently touched his finger to her chin and tipped her head back up. “They are distinct finger marks, sweetheart. I know finger marks when I see them.”

“The other day when I went to the drugstore, the cousin’s husband was there,” she said quietly.

Fury blasted to life in the ice blue eyes that held hers, but he said nothing.

“It was just threats and mindless nonsense, that’s all,” she said.

His eyes shifted to Bard’s; a shared glance of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” he asked. There was no anger in his voice.

She lowered her eyes again. “I didn’t want you to get upset or start worrying,” she said.

He inhaled deeply, turning away from her slightly. She waited, expecting a storm.

“I _need_ to know of these things,” he said after a long silence, looking back towards her. “How can I protect you and take care of you if I don’t know about this? Alisha, you are _so_ important to me – I cannot stress that enough, my darling.”

“He’s right,” Bard said quietly. “He can’t look after you if you aren’t honest with him. But,” he added hastily as she glared in his direction. “I can understand why you didn’t say anything.”

Thranduil glared at him.

“Oh stop it, both of you,” he grumbled. “I’m on the outside looking in. I can see clearer than either of you can.”

Neither of them answered.

“Which drugstore was it that you went to?” he asked, directing his question at Alisha.

“The one over on Fourth and Twenty Third,” she told him.

“Leave it with me. I’ll make a point of obtaining any CCTV footage they might have, and you can take it further with the judge,” he said. “I’m going to go and make some calls. I’ll be in touch.”

Thranduil murmered his goodbyes as he walked away from them towards his car parked on the drive, already busy on his phone.

Ice blue eyes met hers again, heavy with sadness. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

Alisha’s own eyes widened. “Of course I do!” she exclaimed. “Why on earth are you asking that?”

A second or two passed. “You seem reluctant to come to me with problems,” he answered finally.

“Oh babe,” she murmered, shaking her head as she tried to shift Legolas into a more comfortable position.

“Let me take him and give your arms a rest,” he said, and gently took his sleeping child.

“It’s not that I’m reluctant to come to you with anything,” she tried to explain. “I’ve never had anyone to go to if I had problems, and now that I do, I just felt that it was shit you didn’t need to know. I don’t want to add any more pressure on you than you already have…can’t you see that?”

“Yes, I can,” he said, slowly leading her back towards the house. “But I am your _husband,_ I love you unconditionally and I have this burning need to protect you. Is that so wrong?”

“No. But I am your wife, and I also have the same burning need to protect _you_ ,” she pointed out. “It would seem that we’re both aiming for the same thing, and ending up in a whole mess because of it.”

“If I can’t take care of you, who can?” he reasoned. “Alisha…” He trailed off, coming to a stop. “You came into my life in the most unexpected way and completely altered the path of my entire existence. I don’t remember what I did before we met, I can’t remember not being desperate to wake up just to see you. Or not being desperate to fall asleep with you in my arms. You’ve changed _everything,_ and if I’m being honest, I’m lost. Totally lost. I haven’t had to take another person’s feelings into consideration for years, and I know I’m going to get it wrong from time to time. That’s why I think I made a mess of everything yesterday morning when I went crazy and started throwing things around. I want to be here for you, and I want to get it right…no mistakes.”

She gazed up at him, staring into his eyes as he talked. “You aren’t getting anything wrong,” she replied. “We both need to adjust to being with each other, and learning how to share both our personal space and our feelings. Maybe part of me doesn’t know how to depend on another person, but I’ll learn through time. It’s all part of learning to be in a marriage, it’s all part of life.”

He gently touched her cheek with his free hand, the other arm curled securely around Legolas. “If I make mistakes and get things wrong, tell me,” he pleaded in a whisper. “Tell me what to do. Yell at me if I mess up. Tell me to sit my arse down and chill out if I’m going crazy. Make me listen to what you want and need from me.”

She stepped closer into his touch, her eyes drifting closed briefly at the pleasure she took from it. “I want and need you to be you,” she said simply. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

He nodded slowly, watching her eyes as her pupils dilated at his gentle touch. “I can do that,” he said.

*****

The judge frowned and slammed down the papers he had been perusing. “Mr and Mrs Ross…would you care to shed any light on this?” he demanded, turning his angry snarl towards the couple who stood on the other side of the courtroom.

“There is nothing to shed light on,” she replied. “We know nothing of this.”

“May I remind you that it would not be in good stead to _lie_ to me!” he shouted. “I can see no other who would resort to this vile behaviour towards Mr and Mrs Oropherion, do you?”

“I can assure you-“ the husband began.

“I would not attempt to assure me of anything,” he interrupted, lifting a series of glossy black and white photographs and waving them in the air. “I have proof here that you yourself accosted Mrs Oropherion just a few days past, and believe me when I say this will not go unpunished. Intimidation is not something I take lightly, Mr Ross. And your act of violence not only left Mrs Oropherion bruised, but goes a long way to indicate that this hate mail has indeed come from yourselves.” He gathered the papers together and shuffled them into order. “Expect to be arrested and prosecuted for your act as soon as we are finished here today. And furthermore, the police are waiting on tests coming back to confirm whether or not this… _garbage…_ did come from yourselves. You had better hope that it didn’t, otherwise you are both looking at imprisonment, and this whole case being thrown out.”

A stony silence fell over the courtroom.

“Mrs Oropherion, are you well?” he asked, turning his attention to Alisha.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered. “I was a little shaken up, but I’m fine.”

“And the child?”

“As you can see, he wasn’t with me,” she said. “So yes, he is alright.”

“Good,” he huffed. “Mr Oropherion, I hear that you have employed the services of a Private Investigator on the matter, and to protect your wife?”

“I have,” Thranduil confirmed. “I will take no chances where my wife and child are concerned.”

“Commendable,” the judge agreed with a nod. “And the investigator produced the evidence before me?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Those photos have obviously been manipulated,” Mrs Ross objected. “My husband wouldn’t touch her.”

“The only thing being manipulated here is my patience,” the judge blasted back. “I’ve had these looked at by my own court experts, and they are _not_ fabricated or altered in any way. Officers?” He nodded towards two uniformed police officers, who silently stepped forwards and placed handcuffs the husband, before reading him his rights.

His wife glared at Thranduil and Alisha as he was led away from the courtroom.

“I expect the detectives to have solid proof one way or the other within a few days,” the judge addressed them. “So we will reconvene one week from today, at the same time. If there are any further intimidating practices, or letters of this nature – “ he waved the letters for emphasis. “-have Mr Grey leave word for me right away.” He turned to the sullen woman standing to his right. “Do _not_ attempt to initiate any form of contact with the Oropherions,” he warned her. “I do not jest when I say you _will_ be imprisoned if I find evidence that you are behind this. Now get out of my court, all of you.”

Thranduil tightened the hold he had on Alisha’s hand as he stood up and led her down the centre of the courtroom, flanked by Gandalf. Both males had thought it was better that she be placed between them during the meeting.

“Well…this does not look good for the opposing couple,” the attorney said once they were clear of the building. “If it turns out that they _are_ behind the threatening letters, this case is as good as settled. The judge won’t hesitate to toss it straight out, in your favour.”

“There’s no-one else it can be,” Thranduil told him. “Nobody has a grudge against her, no-one has any reason to have one.”

“Well as far as I know, I haven’t pissed anybody off,” she said. Her eyes met Gandalf’s and darted away, causing the lawyer to sigh.

“Alisha, I merely voiced my disapproval of this relationship taking the turn it has because if it fails, Thranduil stands to lose everything,” he said. “An angry woman in a divorce court is _not_ the prettiest sight, believe me.”

She clenched her teeth in anger. “I would _never_ put him through that,” she hissed. “If things go wrong between us, we’ll deal with it like adults. And if we part ways, it’ll be done our way, not through some fucking judge’s way. We have a signed and sealed prenup, remember?”

“We’re not going to part ways,” Thranduil said, sliding his arm around her waist and tugging her against his side. He placed a kiss on top of her head. “We love each other, and that’s the end of it. Nothing is going to come between us. Nothing will separate us. I do not wish to hear any more talk of this, Gandalf. I’m serious.”

“Fine,” he huffed, clearly put out. “For what it’s worth, I have no objection to you both being happy. It’s just that I see the other side of the coin far too often in my line of work.”

“Change careers,” Thranduil retorted. “Or change to banknotes.”

Alisha choked back a laugh, amused at his arrogant response. “Come on babe, I’m hungry,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Gandalf, join us for a late breakfast?”

“I would love to my dear, but I have pressing issues to tend to,” he replied with a genuine smile. “Go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything from the detectives.”

Thranduil didn’t respond, instead just watched him as he ambled down the street towards his car. “The old bugger is grating on me more and more,” he muttered.

She lifted her head up, having a heart-stopping view of his throat, and couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the soft skin.

He hummed in pleasure. “Are you sure you want to eat?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you prefer I did the eating..?”

“Wicked,” she laughed. “Feed me, dammit. You can entertain those thoughts for later. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut or something.”

He laughed, turning her to walk her along the sidewalk towards their own vehicle.

*****

Thranduil rolled over, his arm over Alisha’s hip. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.

“Just going to get a drink,” she whispered, pulling away from him.

His arm thumped down onto the mattress, and he grumbled nonsensically. “What time is it?”

“Heading for ten to three,” she told him as she lifted her robe and shrugged into it.

He pushed himself up onto one elbow, the light from the full moon throwing shadows across his chest. His hair was slightly tousled, and he looked adorable.

“I won’t be long,” she said, turning away.

He reached out and gripped her wrist, preventing her from moving. “Talk to me.”

“I need my pain meds,” she whispered.

His brain was wide awake within a split second. “The pain was bad enough to wake you?” he asked with a frown, and she nodded. “Get back into bed. I’ll make you a cup of tea and bring them to you.”

“No, Thranduil…I…” she broke off, shaking her head as he was on his feet in one smooth, swift move.

“Bed,” he ordered.

“I can-“

He rounded the bed and gently took her shoulders, pushing her back down. “I will take care of this,” he told her. “Give me a minute or two. Get warm and comfortable.”

She grunted in frustration as he padded from the room, not a stitch of clothing on. Her eyes lowered to the curve of his ass with longing as he disappeared, knowing she wasn’t in a position to appreciate the beauty of his body.

True to his word, he reappeared within a few minutes with two mugs of tea, setting one down beside her and obtaining her medication from the en suite. “Here,” he said, lowering himself to sit on her side of the bed. “How long do they take to have any effect?”

“Usually within quarter of an hour,” she replied, popping two tablets. “They’re pretty fast acting.”

He nodded in the dim light, watching her as she swallowed them with a mouthful of her tea. “Lie down, sweetheart,” he told her. She complied, and he tossed the quilt back and swung his weight over her.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Relaxing you,” he replied as he settled his weight on his knees which were on either side of her. He eased her strappy pyjama top up to just below her breasts, and pulled her shorts down to her hips. Both hands began moving in slow circles against her lower abdomen, warm and comforting movements that had her purring in pleasure almost straight away. “This is not supposed to arouse you, my darling.”

She grinned. “For once, it’s not,” she told him. “It just feels _so_ good…I feel like my insides are being ripped out.”

He frowned slightly as he continued to massage her. “How long have you had this?” he asked, lifting his eyes to her occasionally.

“I was diagnosed about four years ago,” she said. “My periods were always hellish, and I absolutely dreaded my time of the month. The doctor sent me to an OB/GYN who said straight away it was endometriosis.”

He shook his head slightly, focused on what he was doing. “I wish I could take this from you,” he said. “It seems so unfair that you have to contend with this.”

“Everybody has something to put up with, I suppose,” she murmered, completely relaxed under his hands. “Life wouldn’t be life, otherwise.”

“No, that is a good point,” he conceded. “But it seems unfair a lot of the time.”

“People go through a hell of a lot worse,” she reminded him. “At least other than this, I’m in good health. I don’t have anything else wrong with me.”

“It seems cruel that you can’t have children,” he said. “And there are people in this world who breed like rabbits and have no wish to.”

A bolt of alarm shot through her. “Do you want more children?”

He stilled as an image of her pregnant with his child came to mind, his member twitching restlessly in response. Her eyes dropped, noticing the change in his body.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You do.”

“Not necessarily,” he told her immediately. “I just had a very appealing image of you carrying my child, that’s all. Don’t worry about it. I neither want nor don’t want any more; it’s too early in our lives together for us to even think about it.”

She didn’t answer, but turned her head to one side.

“Alisha,” he said softly, making her turn back. “We love each other very deeply, but we haven’t known one another all that long. We need to really get to know each other on a deeper level before we even begin to think along those lines, if it was possible for you to have any.”

“What happens if you decide you want more and I can’t fall pregnant?” she asked.

He shrugged, his hands sweeping outwards towards her hips in repeated movements. “Then we cope with that. We have Legolas; it’s not as though we don’t have any children.”

“I love him to pieces Thranduil…but he isn’t mine,” she whispered.

He stilled, gazing at her. “Yes he is,” he told her. “He looks to you as a mother. You’re raising him the way a mother should. You love him like a mother would. A random name printed on a birth certificate means nothing, my darling. Absolutely nothing. It’s who teaches the child that counts, who walks the floor with him, who bathes and feeds him, who plays with him and loves him. Who is there for him twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. _That’s_ what makes a mother, not the ability to give birth.”

She smiled, the sincerity in his voice touching her soul. She lifted a hand and softly touched his cheek, to which he turned his head a placed an open-mouthed kiss in her palm. “I love you,” she told him.

“And I love you too, regardless of whether you can have children or not,” he replied. “The true makings of a mother lie here…” he touched a head to her heart. “…not here.” The hand went back to her stomach. “And that’s what’s important.”

She took a deep breath. “Where have you been all my life?” she asked with a shaky laugh.

He shrugged, a grin appearing on his face as he continued to massage her with the gentlest of touches. “Waiting for you to come along and change everything I believed in,” he replied. “And believe me…thirty nine and a half years is one fucking long time to wait!”

She started to laugh, and held her arms up to him. He carefully changed position and lowered himself to lie on top of her, her arms crossing over his shoulders. “I love you so much,” she said softly, gazing up into eyes that could convince her to sell her soul. “I just think you should know that.”

He smiled as he brushed his mouth over hers. “I do know, and I love you a hundred times more,” he told her. “Now get some rest. Hopefully you’ll be able to drift off now you’ve had your painkillers. Turn over and I’ll cuddle in to your back, and keep rubbing your tummy.”

She did as he advised as he shifted again, settling herself against the warm flesh behind her. His hand moved over her stomach, the gentle caresses resuming in the darkness.

Her eyes drifted closed.


	21. Chapter 21

** CHAPTER TWENTY ONE **

****

“OhMyGodYouBigShit!” Alisha screamed, diving to one side in a frantic attempt to dodge the projectile hurtling at full speed in her direction. The object smacked against her shoulder and burst, sending water cascading down her. “You are _so_ dead!”

Thranduil roared with laughter as she leapt over the picnic table and crashed onto him, sending both of them and the chair he was seated on flying backwards onto the grass.

Thorin choked with laughter, spluttering as his coffee almost shot out of his nose. Fili leaned over and thumped him between his shoulder blades, and Kili had tears of hilarity streaming down his face as he lifted another water balloon and threw it at his uncle.

The coffee went up in the air.

Legolas burst into hysterical baby giggles and rolled over on the grass, trying to climb onto Alisha’s back as she pummelled his father, who was laughing so hard, he couldn’t fend her off.

Anarchy descended into the otherwise peaceful get-together.

Thorin flew from his seat and started lobbing the balloons at his nephews, who paired together in an attempt to soak him in return. The table ended up on its side as they wrestled and fought, and Thranduil flipped Alisha over to pin her immobile between him and the grass.

“I hate you!” she roared through her laughter.

“No you don’t,” he grinned. “You love me.”

She wriggled and kicked beneath him in a futile attempt to free herself, but he was far too strong and outweighed her by a mile. “OhMyGodYou’reGonnaPayForThis!” she spat, still laughing.

Legolas had managed to climb up onto his back, and peeped at her over his shoulder. “Eesha all wet,” he helpfully pointed out. “Daddy hair.” A fistful of long blonde hair immediately went into his little mouth.

“Legolas!” Thranduil said. “I swear I’m going to cut my hair off if you don’t stop chewing on it!”

She murmered, wriggling her hips suggestively against his. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. “I love your hair…something for me to pull…”

His pupils dilated as he stared down at her. “Now is not the time, my love,” he said softly. “However, now you have put that thought there…”

“Hey! Call yourself goddamned friends?!” Thorin roared. “You invite us over here and spend the day canoodling and cavorting on the goddamned grass while I’m being _pummelled?!”_

Thranduil chuckled as he reluctantly released his hold on his wife, lifting himself and his tiny attachment off her and gently tugging his hair from his child’s iron-like grasp. “You seem to be doing a good job of handling yourself,” he replied, swinging Legolas down onto the grass. “But I dare say an extra pair of hands never goes to waste…” He moved like lightning, leaping to his feet and grabbing a handful of balloons, each one hitting the Oakenshield nephews with speed and accuracy.

Ear-splitting screams and hollers filled the air as both younger men cowered down to try to evade the onslaught of missiles. Alisha laughed as she scooped Legolas up out of harm’s way, using her free hand to try to lift the table back upright.

Thranduil swiftly righted it for her, still heaving balloons at an impressive rate, each one hitting its intended target dead-on.

“I’m going to get changed,” she hollered over the racket. “I won’t be long.”

“I prefer you wet,” he replied over his shoulder, earning a poke in his ribs as she passed.

“Pervert,” she muttered good-naturedly.

“Always,” he shot back with a wink.

She chuckled to herself as she crossed the grass towards the house, her step-son settled comfortably on her hip with his arms around her neck.

“Eesha,” he said.

“What is it, my little man?” she asked.

“Daddy all wet,” he told her. “Daddy dwy cwothes?”

She nodded. “Daddy will come in and get changed into dry clothes,” she assured him, stepping over the low stone wall which ran along the edge of the grass. “He’s just playing with Thorin and Kili and Fili.”

They entered the house and she set him down onto his feet, whipping her soaked t-shirt off as she went through to the laundry room. Finding a clean peach coloured vest top, she yanked it on and straightened it, lifting her hair out of the way. The wet t-shirt was tossed into the basket to be washed later.

She went back through to the kitchen, opening cupboards as she considered what to make for lunch. “Legolas…would you like some ravioli?” she asked.

“Pease,” he responded, making her smile.

“Santa’s going to bring you an L for Christmas,” she told him as she lifted various items from the cupboard. “And an R.”

He mumbled absent-mindedly, arranging a pile of bricks in a line.

Ten minutes later, she opened the patio doors and yelled at the still-battling quartet to get themselves in for something to eat. By the time they appeared, soaked and soggy, she was serving omelettes with garlic, mushrooms, cheese, and onion onto plates. Garlic bread appeared in the middle of the table, and dressing gowns thrown at the three guests.

She threw their wet clothing into the dryer while they ate, taking her seat next to her husband, who had quickly changed clothes..

“This is gorgeous,” Fili commented, wolfing his food down like he’d never eaten before.

“Thankyou,” she replied. “Legolas…would you like to try some?”

His mouth opened wide as a reply, and she popped a little of her omelette in. His eyebrows came down in a frown as he chewed, and she started to laugh.

“What’s funny?” Thranduil asked.

“He looks so like you when he scowls,” she told him.

He rolled his eyes, and Thorin grinned.

“She’s right,” he said, waving his fork at his friend. “He’s your spitting image when he’s frowning, or angry about something.”

“I do not get angry…much,” he muttered.

She kicked him under the table, grinning as she lifted her orange juice but saying nothing.

“The playpark finishes tomorrow, guys,” Kili piped up in between mouthfuls of food.

“Yesss,” she said as she set her glass back down. “Clear a path, people.”

Fili chuckled. “There are really tall swings, so you can go really high,” he told her. “And there’s a zip-slide too.”

Her fork clattered onto the plate. “What?”

He nodded.

“Oh I’m first in the queue for that,” she decided, picking it up again. “I love those things.”

Thranduil shook his head in amusement. “I can just imagine,” he commented. “This is delicious.”

“You didn’t know you married a big kid, did you?” she said, glancing at him as she ate. “I’m a lunatic in playparks.”

“I shall be sure to take my phone to capture the photos,” he replied. “I’m sure I’ll be able to use them against you at some point in the future.”

“Ha!” she snorted.

“You always come across as really professional, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Thorin remarked.

“You didn’t see her dealing with Ted,” Thranduil spoke up. “She was beyond professional. Everything was documented and written down like a legal document, even though it was private nursing care she was giving him. I’d expect records like that to be done in a hospital setting.”

“Every care setting is the same,” she told him. “Accurate documentation is necessary in case something goes wrong, or the patient’s condition gets worse – they can be given to the attending doctor or medics to help them do their job better. Plus it means you can’t forget when a certain medication or procedure is due.”

“Why don’t you work as a nurse in the hospital in the city?” Kili questioned curiously.

“Because I’m not a trained, registered nurse,” she replied. “I do nursing care, which is different from nursing. I can’t deal with blood.”

Fili had stopped chewing. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me faint. I don’t know why, and it’s something I can’t control.”

“But you can clean up…” he trailed off, lost for how to say what he was thinking.

“Faecal matter? Vomit? Urine? Snot and phlegm?” she supplied with a grin. “Yep. I’m happiest dealing with that, just not the red stuff. That shit’s not supposed to come out of anybody. The other stuff is.”

Beside her, Thranduil chuckled softly. “But I would bet that you have just as much experience as the practicing nurses at the hospital,” he said.

“Maybe, in some aspects,” she agreed. “But not wounds or surgical. I only took as many exams as I needed to improve my level and quality of care, and left it at that.”

“Do you think you’ll go back to it?” Thorin asked as he cleared his plate. “It would seem that you have a talent that’s going to waste.”

Her gaze drifted to Legolas, who was making shapes with his ravioli. “Not necessarily,” she murmered. “Some of those skills are coming in really handy these days.”

A hush fell over the table.

Thranduil turned her head to face him, leaning towards her and placing a deep kiss on her mouth, ignoring their guests. “I think you’re doing amazing,” he whispered with a smile.

She smiled back, turning to her half-eaten lunch.

*****

Two days later.

“Babe…where are you?” Alisha called, wandering through the house. “Thranduil?”

“In here, sweetheart,” he called back, sounding muffled.

She followed his voice, finding him downstairs in the basement. “What are you doing down here?” she asked.

Legolas sat on the floor at his feet as he grunted under his breath.

“The damned lights keep blowing in the garage,” he told her, wrestling with a spanner. “I think this whole fuse board needs replacing.”

She shook her head in confusion. “So get a sparky to see to it,” she said. “Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

He drew her a look. “I know a thing or two about construction, believe it or not,” he said dryly. “I don’t know if I ever told you that or not.”

She laughed. “Yeah…you might have mentioned it in passing,” she quipped. “Listen, can you keep an eye on the wee one for half an hour? The pharmacist called, said my pain meds are in. I was going to jump over and pick them up.”

He frowned, his hands stilling. “Wouldn’t it be better if you stay here and I go?”

“Nah,” she scoffed. “It’ll only take half an hour tops. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He considered her for a few seconds. “I’d really feel better if I went,” he said.

She waved him off. “I could do with some fresh air,” she told him. “I’ll make you a coffee when I get back.”

“Come here,” he commanded as she turned away.

She turned back and walked towards him. He swooped down and captured her lips with his, a deep rumble sounding from his chest as he swept his tongue around her mouth. His velvet-soft lips felt warm against her own, and she felt the distinct tug of need unfurl within her. Pulling back from him, she gazed into his eyes, battling the urge to tear his clothes from him and have him right there on the floor.

“I shall tend to your needs and desires when you get back, my daring,” he whispered huskily, sending more shards of desire though her. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You want me.”

She nodded.

“You desire me.”

Again, she nodded.

“You are wet for me.” His silken whisper caressed her senses in the most erotic way. “Your body is throbbing with the need to come. It yearns to be possessed by mine.”

She gasped, her equilibrium upside down at his words. He watched her silently, assessing how turned on she was through a simple kiss. A smirk lifted the corners of his full mouth as he turned back to the fuse box.

“You’re a shit,” she murmered, still entranced by the stunning God before her. He glanced at her and winked, making her laugh. “Ok, I won’t be long. Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied as she went back up the steps to the main level of the house.

Damn him for turning her to liquid mush so fast!

She grabbed her car keys and left the house, rolling her shoulders as she approached the Range Rover. Within minutes she was heading towards the drug store, music blasting from the cd player. Adjusting the volume a little louder, she smiled as she floored the powerful car, overtaking slow-moving vehicles in her path.

Her gaze drifted to her rear view mirror as a Mitsubishi 4x4 came into view, moving in between vehicles behind her. Whoever it was wasn’t patient enough to hang around either.

She changed gears and switched lanes, intending to take the exit off the freeway into town. The Mitsubishi followed, keeping pace with her. Frowning, she ignored it and concentrated on the road ahead. Traffic flowed smoothly around her, and she felt relaxed and at peace.

A sudden jolt made her gasp, as the Range Rover lurched forwards too fast. She glanced into the mirror to see the Mitsubishi right at her tail.

What the hell..?

It rammed her again, and the car drifted slightly off course as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. Who was this lunatic, and what were they playing at?? She pressed down on the gas, pulling away from the vehicle behind, cursing under her breath in the process. Her eyes followed the car in her mirror as it drifted to one side, and she turned her head to see Charlie Ross glaring at her.

_Damn._

He’d obviously made bail.

Her body jerked as he twisted his steering wheel sharply, ramming the side of her car with his. She swore, and corrected the alignment as she sped up again. Once more the Range Rover lurched to the side as he rammed her again.

“Fuck sake!” she muttered, her gaze darting between the road ahead and the idiot pulling level with her. A deafening screech of metal met her ears as the car lurched again, skidding into the next lane to a volley of horns. She wrenched the wheel back, pulling herself from the flow of traffic bearing down behind her.

Again, the vehicle walloped against her side, bouncing her off course yet again. She grit her teeth and grabbed her phone from the dash, dialling 911 and quickly explaining her situation.

“I’m on the freeway heading towards West and Fourth,” she said, speaking loudly over the noise as he continued to ram her. “The driver is Charles Ross, and he’s driving a blue Mitsubishi Shogun.”

“Officers are being dispatched, ma’am,” the operator told her. “Try to stay calm, and assistance will be with you very soon. Stay on the line, ma’am, so I can monitor your safety.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, and screamed as her car bashed off the one on the other side of her. It was a much smaller car, and she caught sight of it in her mirror as it spun off to one side. She struggled to bring her own back in line, flooring it in an effort to leave Charlie behind.

His vehicle kept level with her, and several times she caught the maniacal look in his eyes as he swerved towards her with force and purpose. The call handler was talking, but she couldn’t hear her over the noise of the collisions and her screaming as she began to feel the first real claws of terror digging into her. Pain arched across her chest as she fought her rising levels of panic, and her breathing increased.

She glanced to her side, seeing Charlie grinning at her. Anger surged through her. What if she’d listen to Thranduil and stayed home, and had allowed him to collect her meds? She’d already thought she’d lost him once in a traffic accident, and didn’t relish the idea of going through it again. The pain that surged through her at the memory of that day cut like a knife, and she shook it off with determination.

Her eyes went back to the road as she realised they were rapidly approaching the crash barrier separating the freeway from the carved rocks of the cliff which loomed up to one side. Her heart fell as she realised this had probably been his plan all along.

True to her expectations, the Mitsubishi rammed violently against her side, crushing her between it and the barrier. Sparks flew as the metal collided and dragged. Her arms ached as she fought to shift the Range Rover back against the other car and failing due to the speed they were travelling at. The call handler continued talking to her, shouting to ask her if she was still with her.

“He’s going to kill me!” she yelled back, fear taking over. “He’s not going to stop!”

He pulled away to one side a little, and she quickly brought her own car back under control. The breath left her in a garbled scream as he rapidly crashed back against her, lifting her off two wheels. The world spun around her as she crashed over the barrier, rolling over.

*****

Thranduil grated a pile of cheese and swept it from the wooden chopping board into a ceramic bowl, covering it with film wrap and sliding it onto the shelf in the fridge.

“Eesha home?” Legolas asked, looking up from his colouring book.

“Not yet, my little Prince,” he replied, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “She won’t be long though. What are you colouring?”

“House,” he said. “’Ook. Big house.”

He leaned down, placing one hand on the table beside his child’s artwork. “That’s amazing!” he said. “I like the colours.”

“I like boo,” the youngster told him. “Evewyfing boo.”

He smiled, lifting his head as the buzzer from the front gate sounded. He straightened and crossed over the hallway, connecting the video and audio feed. His blood turned to ice as he saw two police officers waiting.

“Mr Oropherion?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“We’re sorry to disturb you Sir, but may we come in? We have some news for you,” he said.

“Sure,” he answered, pressing the button to release the gate. He swung back around and lifted Legolas from his chair, settling him on his hip as he made his way towards the main door. A warm breeze lifted the ends of his hair as it swept around him when he opened it, waiting patiently for the approaching officers.

The marked car wound along the curved drive, pulling to a halt a few feet in front of the steps, and the two exited the vehicle. Thranduil hesitantly stepped out of the doorway and down the concrete steps.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned.

“Mr Oropherion…is Alisha Oropherion your wife?” one of them asked him.

Fear crawled up his spine. “Yes,” he said. “What’s happened? Where is she?”

“I’m afraid she has been involved in a traffic collision,” the officer told him. “She’s been airlifted to Watson Hospital.”

The blood left his head, and the officer reached out to take his arm as he turned chalk white.

“Sir? Do you need to sit for a moment?”

He shook his head rapidly, trying to balance things out in his head. “Is she alright? Is she alive? Has she been badly hurt?” he demanded, feeling a tight constriction across his chest.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have that information as yet,” the second officer told him. “All we know is that she has been airlifted and is receiving medical attention. If you want to be with her, we can drive you. You’ve had a shock, Sir. You might need time to process things.”

“I need to be with my wife,” he whispered, feeling strangely detached from his body. His dazed eyes turned back to the officers. “I need to go to her.”

The first one nodded. “We can take you,” he assured him. “Do you need to collect anything before we go?”

“Uh, no…” he said, disorientated. “No. I just need to go.”

“Understood. This way, Sir,” he said, gently guiding him down the last few remaining steps while the other one closed the door of the house.

He numbly climbed into the back of the car, settling Legolas on his lap and the helpful policeman fastened the seatbelt around both of them.

“We’ll have you there as soon as we can,” he told him.

He didn’t answer; just nodded, and tightened his arms around his quiet child.


	22. Chapter 22

** CHAPTER TWENTY TWO **

****

The double doors crashed open and bounced off the walls on either side of the doorway. Every nurse, doctor, and medic in the area lifted their heads as a furious-looking six feet five blonde strode through the waiting area, each one of them knowing immediately who he was here for by the sheer purpose of his gait and the look of determination on his granite features.

“Mr Oropherion?” a doctor asked hesitantly, stepping out from behind a workstation.

He nodded grimly.

The doctor nodded back. “This way, Sir,” she said, turning on her heel and leading the way through another set of double doors.

He followed her in silence, the pain in his heart too powerful to allow him to speak or ask any questions. Alisha had only just come into his life and changed everything he’d ever believed in, and not knowing of her condition, he was looking at the possibility of losing her. The knowledge was too much for him to comprehend.

Legolas had remained completely silent since they’d left the house, almost as though he knew something was desperately wrong. He tightened his arm around his son, pulling on the youngster’s innocent strength to help him through this.

The doctor moved swiftly, taking him down a series of twists and turns through the hospital, and stopped outside a private room. “Alisha is in here,” she told him, leaning her head right back to meet his eyes as he towered above her. “Just go easy on her…she’s had a rough time.”

He moved past her, elbowing the door open.

Alisha sat on the edge of the hospital bed, her head in her hands. She looked up at the sudden intrusion, and he could see both the relief and the fear in her eyes.

He moved swiftly, setting Legolas onto the floor as he dropped to his knees beside the bed. His arms went around her and he crushed her against him, her arms sliding over his shoulders as her body started to shake. He buried his face into her chest, taking deep breaths as he tried to control his own trembling.

She lowered her head and rested her cheek against his hair, tears streaming down her face.

“Don’t cry, my darling, I’m here,” he whispered brokenly, feeling her shudder and hearing her soft sobs. Large, warm hands glided up and down her back. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving your side. Ever.”

She dragged a deep breath into her lungs as he slowly moved, lifting his head to look at her. She had a purple bruise on her left cheek and a slash across her forehead, held together with steristrips. He tucked her hair behind her ear, kissing her softly. She continued to tremble in his arms, and he swallowed the lump of emotion away that had become lodged in his throat.

“What happened?” he asked.

She gasped in another breath. “Charlie Ross,” she whispered.

Fury blasted across his eyes, and she shrunk back a little.

“He did this?” he asked, his voice uneven with his anger. “He did this to you?”

She nodded, her tears falling faster. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The anger in his eyes changed to anguish. “Why are you sorry? Why are you apologising?” he asked, pained. “My darling, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for! What’s wrong?”

“The car is a write-off,” she sobbed.

“And? I do not care about the car!” he told her. “That car saved your life! I care more about you!”

“But it cost a fortune,” she whispered.

“Oh my God…Alisha…forget how much the car cost,” he cried in distress. “Look at me. Come on, my love…look at me.”

He tipped her chin up, making her meet his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly. “You are all that I care about, not the car. You. Just you. Only ever you.”

“But…” she started, then trailed off.

“But nothing,” he said. “You mean more to me than some car; I don’t care how much it cost. It’s the best money I could have spent, sweetheart, because it protected you. It kept you alive, and made sure you came back to me. And to our son.”

Legolas looked up from his position on the floor, where he was trying to take one of his sneakers off. “Eesha hug,” he said, holding both arms up.

Thranduil wiped his cheek with his shoulder as he moved to lift him, and she realised he’d been crying. Her heart broke a little more, and she buried her face against the child who lovingly snuggled into her as he was passed to her.

“Wuv you, Eesha,” he said.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Thranduil enclosed both of them in an embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. Time ticked past slowly, with the three of them absorbing love and strength from one another.

He eventually moved, the feeling beginning to fade from his legs as he kneeled on the cold, hard floor. “When do the doctors say you can come home?” he asked, touching her hair tenderly.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to find out,” he told her, kissing her cheek as he stood up. “I’ll just be out in the hall, my darling. I promise I won’t go far.”

She nodded tearfully, and his heart twisted painfully at the fear he could see in her dark blue eyes.

He reluctantly turned and went over to the door, opening it and stepping out into the brightly-lit corridor. The doctor who had taken him to her was standing at the other end of the hall, checking someone’s notes, and looked up as she heard the door open. Setting the clipboard down, she walked towards him.

“Let’s go inside and talk,” she said gently as she neared him.

He nodded silently, and held the door open for her to pass him.

“First off, I’m Dr Walker, and I’ve been treating your wife since her arrival,” she said, speaking to him, but her eyes watched the interaction between Alisha and Legolas. Both of them were still holding tightly to one another. “The impact of the collision was enough to topple the car over the crash barrier,” she went on, turning to him. “The medics on-site said the vehicle was upside down, wedged against the barrier and the cliff face.”

Thranduil closed his eyes and shook his head as he lowered it, breathing deeply.

“Your wife has been exceptionally lucky, Mr Oropherion,” she said quietly. “And I cannot stress enough just _how_ exceptionally. The only reason we airlifted her was because it was faster to get her here than by an ambulance, and we didn’t know the extent of her injuries. The Gods must have been looking out for her, because she hasn’t broken a single bone.”

He lifted his head again, sniffing hard.

“The medics and the fire crew who attended had to cut her from the wreckage,” she continued. “The car is a goner, but thankfully it was enough to protect your wife. Any other car might not have had the same level of protection in such a collision.”

He nodded, aware of his pounding heartbeat as he realised how terrified she must have been, and how close he’d come to losing her.

“For all intents and purposes, she might have simply taken a bump on the tail of the vehicle, as she appears in perfectly good health,” she said. “The injuries you see seem to be the only ones she has, and we’ve done x-rays, scans, everything.”

He tipped his head back and stared at the tiled ceiling above him for a few seconds. “When can I take her home?” he asked, looked back at the doctor.

She hesitated. “Give her another two hours under our observation, and if all appears well, you’ll be free to take her,” she replied. “I just want to be a hundred percent sure that she won’t have any lasting effects, nothing more. There’s no need to be worried.”

He nodded, and she smiled at Alisha and Legolas before leaving the room.

Heaving a shuddering sigh, he took his phone from the pocket of his jeans, and swiped through a few screens. “I need to let Elrond know what’s happened,” he said quietly. “He’ll have to hold the fort for me at work for a while.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. “You don’t have to stay off work,” she told him.

Heartbroken eyes held hers. “Yes I do,” he whispered. “I do, my love…I do. I have to be with you.” Crossing back to her, he went back onto his knees on the floor before her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it tightly in his own. “I need to be with you…please understand that.”

She swallowed. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” she said, her voice soft and low.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against hers, rubbing her cheek with his. “You are not,” he said. “My God, Alisha…how can I make you understand? I thought you’d been taken from me…I thought I wasn’t going to see you alive again…”

She breathed in his aroma, taking comfort from him and the heat he radiated. Taking a deep breath, she watched him with weary eyes as he rocked back onto his heels and called Elrond.

The call connected, and his eyes held hers as he spoke, outlining his partner on what had happened. She could hear shocked exclamations coming back down the line, but stayed quiet. Thranduil never took his eyes away from hers as he alternated between talking and listening. His hand remained on hers, holding tightly. The call ended fairly rapidly, and he slid the phone back into his pocket.

“Elrond’s on his way,” he said softly. “He should be here soon.”

“Someone else put out,” she murmered.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. His long hair swished gently with the movement, catching her eye. “Do not think like that. He would be devastated if he thought that’s what you felt. He’s not like that, Alisha.”

Her gaze lowered, and she shifted Legolas so he was sitting across her lap facing his father.

“How do you feel?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

“Sore, and a little dizzy,” she answered. “But I’ll be ok.”

“I _need_ for you to be ok,” he whispered. He changed position and sat next to her on the bed, sliding his arm around her as she held on to his child. Placing a kiss on her hair, he rested his cheek against the silky softness, lapsing into silence.

*****

“This has gone too far, Thranduil,” Elrond said gravely. His grey eyes watched his friend. “What are the police saying?”

Beside her, he sighed. “They’ve already been in and taken statements,” he replied. “The detective who I originally spoke to about the letters has been made aware, and is coming to the house later on this evening. In the meantime, they’re out looking for the car and the driver.”

Elrond’s eyebrows arched down as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Have you spoken to Gandalf?”

Thranduil shook his head, his energy depleted. “Not yet. I will, just…I need to get Alisha home and settled, and sort my head out.”

He nodded. “Leave it with me. I’ll call him and let him know. The judge must know about this as soon as possible.” He jiggled Legolas on his hip, blowing raspberries at him. “I’ll take the little one for a walk, try to occupy him a little while we wait for the doctor.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve been pulled away on your day off,” Alisha said. It was the first she’d spoken in a long time.

He looked at her, considering his words. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said finally. “Friends and family come together when we’re needed. This is one of those times. You are not responsible for what happened today.”

She didn’t answer, and Thranduil could physically feel her withdrawing into herself.

Elrond exchanged concerned glances with him, before leaving the room with Legolas, chattering nonsense to him as they disappeared.

Alisha allowed Thranduil to pull her closer against his side, closing her eyes and relaxing as best she could under the circumstances.

“As soon as you’re clear to go home, Elrond will take us,” he told her. “We just have to wait until the doctor says you’re good to go.”

“Hopefully that won’t be too much longer,” she said quietly.

No sooner had she spoken, than Dr Walker entered the room. “So…how do you feel?” she asked, placing the earbuds of her stethoscope in her ears.

“Sore,” she replied.

Thranduil could tell by her voice that all the fight had left her, and it worried him.

The doctor checked her heartbeat and her breathing, before taking her blood pressure. “I think you should be alright to go home,” she said, removing the stethoscope and draping it around her neck. “But make sure you rest up and take it easy for a few days. There will probably be more bruises tomorrow, so don’t be surprised. I've written up a script for painkillers – the same ones you take for the endometriosis? Take them as and when needed – don’t suffer needlessly. And husband – take care of her. Call me if you have any concerns.”

“I will,” he promised, rising to his feet and helping her to hers. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”

“Good,” she said with a firm nod. “Be sure to call if you need to.”

“Thankyou,” he answered, and guided his wife towards the door after her.

She blinked in the harsh lights of the corridor as she left the reasonably small but comfortable room, the brightness sparking a slight headache. Her hand tightened in Thranduil’s and he flipped their hold so his fingers intertwined through hers in a tighter, more secure grip.

It didn’t take long to locate Elrond and Legolas; cheery baby chuckles echoed along the maze of corridors leading them to them.

“We can go,” Thranduil said, flashing a smile at his son, who promptly stuck his tongue out at him. “Very nice,” he said dryly. “I leave him in your company for five minutes, and you have him making abusive gestures at me. Thankyou for that.”

His friend laughed heartily. “Next step is something _far_ more improper,” he said.

“Don’t even dare contemplate it,” he muttered. “I need to go and get the release papers signed, and pay the medical bill. Shall we meet you out in the parking lot?”

“Yes, take your time,” he replied. “I’ll get Tiny Trouble here settled in the car.”

*****

Alisha was silent the whole drive home. She sat in the back next to Legolas, who babbled away contentedly in the car seat that lived in Elrond’s vehicle. She watched the scenery flash past as they headed towards home, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

Thranduil talked on and off with his partner, ever aware that she had fallen into a world of silence behind him. He slid his hand back through the seats, feeling around for hers, and tightened his fingers around hers as she took it. He held on to her for the rest of the drive.

“Look, let me take Legolas overnight,” Elrond suggested, pulling to a smooth stop by the steps of the house. “That’ll give you two time to relax and get some rest. The little one will have a great time over at mine; the twins and Arwen are there for a couple of days.”

Thranduil nodded after a second or two. “Ok, that’ll be fine,” he agreed. “I’ll get a change of clothes for him.”

“No need, there’s plenty from the last time he stayed over,” his friend answered. “He’s good to go. Don’t worry about anything.”

He nodded, giving her fingers a final squeeze before releasing her and sliding his hand back. The passenger door opened and he stepped out, his towering height catching her attention through the bubble she’d enclosed herself in. The early evening sun shone behind him, giving his hair a beautiful glow as he moved to open her door.

Leaning over to kiss Legolas, she whispered _I love you_ and gently tweaked his cheek, smiling at the happy grin he sent her way. Thranduil took her hand and helped her from the vehicle, leaning across the seats once she’d moved and kissing his son. With a nod to Elrond, he closed the door and waved as the car moved off.

“Come on, my darling,” he said softly, gently running his fingers through her hair. “I’ll make you a coffee and run you a hot bath. Lot of bubbles and candles.” He smiled down at her, but the smile she offered him in return was weak.

He took her hand and led her indoors, closing and locking the heavy door before taking her through to the kitchen. Two coffees were made in silence, and he carried both cups in one hand as he reclaimed hers with the other, taking her back out towards the stairs. Not a word was spoken as they climbed them, so he didn’t push. He knew she’d open up when she was ready.

Once in their bedroom, he set the cups down onto the marble countertop in the en suite and began running the hot water to fill the large tub.

Alisha watched him from the doorway. She seldom used the bath, as a shower was more efficient time-wise when faced with a busy day ahead. Feeling like she was detached and watching things from a distance, her eyes followed him as he poured peach-scented oil into the bath, the bubbles forming instantly.

A few candles were lit.

He turned to her once he’d finished preparing the bathing space, approaching her slowly. Gentle hands slowly helped her to undress, tossing her clothing into the laundry basket beside the door. Her hair was lifted gently and tied into a messy bun to keep it out of the water.

Still she stood like she was somewhere else.

He took her hand and helped her into the bath, not letting her go until she was safely seated, and then he quickly shed his own clothes. The two coffees were moved to within reach, and he gently touched her shoulder to ease her forwards a little, climbing in and settling himself behind her.

His legs rested on either side of hers, and he pulled her back to lean against his chest as he lifted the sponge and a bottle of peach shower gel.

Working in silence, he soaped her down and rinsed her off, with no reaction or words coming from her. It was as though she wasn’t there.

She drank her coffee when he leaned over and handed it to her. The hot liquid seemed to thaw her insides, bringing her slightly closer to reality. Not much, but a little. Once she had finished, he rose behind her and helped her out of the bath, wrapping her in a soft towel. He turned to lift one for himself, and she reacted.

At last.

His head flipped back towards her as she took a deep breath, like a gasp. Then another. And another.

Then the floodgates burst.

Tears started flowing rapidly down her cheeks as her breathing rate increased, and she began to tremble and shake. Tucking the end of the towel around his hips, he reached out for her as her knees buckled underneath her.

Strong arms grabbed her as he slowly and gently lowered her to the floor, going with her. He pulled her onto his legs as she curled into foetal position, her sobs tearing through her. Rocking her from side to side, he softly _sshhh_ ’d in her ear as he held her. Her body was wracked with tremors as she shook uncontrollably from head to toe, unable to stop the violent shuddering. She sobbed and cried, her anguish bringing tears to his own eyes as he tightened his arms around her.

Minutes passed, maybe hours.

He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

Still he remained on the floor with her, silently willing his inner strength to merge into her as she cried. His mind went back through time to the night he’d discovered Ted’s videos in the safe of his study; how he’d broken and she’d done the same thing with him. She’d given him silent comfort and support, and he’d never forgotten that simple act of kindness she’d shown him, especially after the way he’d treated her.

Eventually, her cries and sobs began to subside, although she still trembled against him. Her breathing was choppy and uneven, and she was exhausted. Her weight sagged more and more against him as her energy slowly ebbed, taking the brunt of her crying with it. He accepted her weight, pressing soft kisses to her cheek and hair as he held her.

A long, long time passed; neither of them having moved. She’d gone so still, he wondered if she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms.

She hadn’t, and proved it when she moved a little.

He didn’t speak, just simply stroked her hair and waited until she was ready.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words coming out in the softest, quietest whisper.

He lifted her higher and tucked her head against his shoulder. “Why are you sorry?” he asked gently. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. Nothing at all.”

She hiccupped. “I’m being a baby,” she replied. Her throat was on fire from all her crying and weeping.

“You’re not,” he said. “Your adrenalin has finally crashed. It was just a matter of time before it did, and you’ve had a delayed reaction to what happened today. It is certainly nothing you should even be thinking of apologising for.”

She fell quiet again for a few minutes, taking comfort from the feeling of his chest against hers as he breathed. “You don’t deserve this,” she finally said.

“Deserve what? Had this happened earlier, they might not have released you from the hospital,” he said. “At least you’ve managed to get home, and are in your own comfortable surroundings, with no-one here but me. Just you and me, coming through this together.”

Her face turned in to press into his neck, her arms tightening around his waist.

“I love you, you know,” he reminded her. “And this is part of a loving relationship; being there for one another, being strong and carrying one another when the other is unable to. Taking each other through the good times and the bad times. Healing each other. Being devoted to one another.”

Her fingers absent-mindedly played along the edge of the towel wrapped around him. “This isn’t what you got into this for,” she said.

His chest expanded against her as he took a deep breath. “I married you for one reason, and it was the wrong one,” he said. “However, that being said, it turned out to be the best decision of my life because we fell in love with each other. Without the initial offer of the job of being my wife, we would never have discovered the magic we have. We would never have experienced what true love really is, having listened to others talk about it all our lives. We’d never have known what it felt like to find comfort and solace in each other’s arms.”

She absorbed his words, and slowly shifted so she could look at him.

Ice blue eyes filled with love held hers, and she blinked as she gazed into the depths. The only things she could see there were honesty, love, and the unspoken promise to never leave her or let her down.

“I love you so much,” she said softly, her fingertips tracing the gentle smile that appeared on his face. “And I always will.”

“That’s good to know,” he whispered. “Because I love you too, and I always will.” His mouth brushed against hers in the softest caress. “I think we should both get some rest, my love. You’re exhausted, and I’m worn out too. Come on – let’s snuggle up together for an hour or so.” 

She nodded and slowly got to her feet, her limbs sore after being on the floor for such a long period of time. He stood up with her, never breaking physical contact, and led her back through to their bedroom. Pulling back the quilt with one hand, he unwrapped the towel from her and removed his as she slid onto the crisp, cool sheet, and he curled in at her back.


	23. Chapter 23

** CHAPTER TWENTY THREE **

****

Swiftly fastening the buttons on his shirt, Thranduil hurried down the stairs towards the buzzer, barefoot. He ran a hand through his hair as he approached it and pressed the button to connect it.

“Mr Oropherion…Detective Turner,” the voice spoke through the speaker.

“Sure, come on through,” he replied, releasing the gates. He threw a quick glance back up towards the upper floor, deciding to let Alisha sleep. She was drained and worn out, and needed the rest.

Opening the front door, he was surprised to see the judge accompanying the detective, both heading towards him.

“Judge Davis,” he greeted him, accepting the hand he held out in a handshake. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

“Matters have changed drastically,” he replied, stepping over the threshold in front of the detective as he moved aside. “I’m very concerned about your wife’s welfare, Mr Oropherion.”

The detective nodded as he removed his hat. “All officers are on the lookout for Charlie Ross,” he said. “The vehicle was recovered just off the southbound exit near Highbrook; stolen, of course.”

Thranduil nodded, closing the door and leading them through to the kitchen. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?”

“I wouldn’t refuse a tea,” the judge replied, with the closest to a smile he’d ever seen from him.

“Coffee for me, please, if it’s not too much trouble,” Turner said. “How is Mrs Oropherion?”

Thranduil sighed softly as he prepared the beverages. “She’s asleep,” he answered. He glanced at the two visitors, who had seated themselves at the table. “She’s bruised, but nothing was broken. Apart from her spirit,” he added softly.

There was a pregnant pause.

“We’re doing all we can to apprehend Ross,” Turner said.

He nodded. “I understand. I wasn’t fully prepared for her delayed shock once we came home, that’s all. It’s affected her badly; worse than I originally thought when she was in the hospital.”

“I understand this will be a difficult time for both of you,” Davis said. “The results have come back from the letters.”

Thranduil met his eyes. “They sent them, didn’t they?”

He lowered his eyes and nodded. “Yes. But we knew that anyway,” he sighed. “I need both of you in court first thing tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock sharp.”

He frowned. “Shouldn’t my wife’s state of mind and health come first?” he asked, a sharp tone to his question.

“Under normal circumstances, yes,” he replied. “But I’m going to formally dismiss the custody case. I need you both present.”

The air left Thranduil’s lungs, and he swallowed as he tried to gather his scattered emotions.

“With the evidence we have, and the attempt on Mrs Oropherion’s life, there is no chance in hell I’d ever award custody to that despicable pair,” Davis continued. “If they can put a family through this solely to gain a child, there’s no saying what else they could do. What would happen if the child support wasn’t enough? What if they got into more debt than they’re already in? For what it’s worth, I agree with your private investigator’s report that this is financially motivated, nothing more.”

“Ross is looking at charges of attempted murder, dangerous driving, and harassment,” Turner put in. “He’s not going to see the light of day for quite some time, that’s a promise.”

“That’s if you find him,” Thranduil said, handing two cups to them. He took a deep breath. “I’m going to arrange for personal protection for Alisha until you do have him in custody.”

A slight movement caught his eye and he lifted his head to see Alisha padding towards him in her robe.

“You should be in bed, sweetheart,” he said, setting his cup down and hurrying towards her.

She stopped and slid her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. “I’m alright,” she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his shirt. “The buzzer woke me.”

“Our apologies, Mrs Oropherion,” Turner said.

“You haven’t found him yet?” she asked, lifting herself away from the comfort of Thranduil’s chest slightly. Her arms remained around his waist, and his around her shoulders.

He shook his head apologetically. “Not yet, I’m afraid,” he said. “But it’s just a matter of time. We’ll get him.”

“I’ve already told your husband, I’m dismissing the custody case,” Davis told her. “Do you think you can be in court first thing in the morning?”

She nodded with determination. “Yes. I’ll be there.”

“Come and sit down baby, I’ll make you a coffee,” Thranduil said softly as he guided her to the table. He held a seat out for her, kissing her hair as she lowered herself into it.

“How are you feeling?” the judge asked.

“Sore,” she answered. “Sorer than before I went to sleep.”

“You’ll be even worse in the morning, I’m afraid,” he told her, drinking his tea. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s how crashes can affect people.”

She nodded. “I’m expecting it,” she said.

“I’d suggest a good night’s sleep, and go back to bed once the hearing is concluded in the morning,” he advised.

She snorted softly. “He’s already destroyed today for me; I’m not letting him destroy tomorrow as well.”

“It’s not destroying it, it’s taking time out for yourself,” Turner told her over his cup of coffee. “Listen to what your body’s telling you. Emotionally you’ve been through a lot, but physically you have too. All that needs to heal.”

“She will be resting as much as possible,” Thranduil said. “Legolas is with his godfather overnight, so she will have an uninterrupted sleep tonight. And I’ll be packing her back to bed once we’re done tomorrow.”

She scowled at him as he handed her a mug of coffee.

“No arguments, my darling,” he said, and dropped a light kiss on her mouth.

“So what happens with the wife?” she asked, holding both hands tightly around the cup.

“She’s being looked for as we speak,” Turner replied. “We want her in for questioning, and to charge her with the threatening letters. Unless we can tie her into the car accident though, that’s all we have on her.”

“It’s enough to throw this case out of the window,” Davis reminded him. “Your choice of attorney somewhat leaves a lot to be desired,” he said to Thranduil. “I was sorely tempted to throw him in jail overnight due to his _I-was-right-and-you-were-wrong_ attitude.”

Thranduil smirked. “He can be an annoying pain,” he admitted. “But he’s loyal and stays true to what he believes in.”

Alisha smiled. “He’s harmless,” she said. “He means well.”

“I dare say he does,” the judge said dryly. “I don’t appreciate his attitude, however.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she promised, and blew into her coffee before taking a sip. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he has a heart of gold.”

Thranduil snorted softly. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“I think your idea on personal protection is a good idea, for the time being,” Turner said, turning his attention to him.

“What?” She brought her cup back down onto the table with a thump. “Babe..what protection? What’s going on?”

“I’m going to have Bard’s people protect you until this maniac has been caught,” he told her.

“Like hell you are,” she said. “I don’t need anyone.”

“Baby, you do,” he said, putting his cup down and sitting across from her. He reached over and took her hands in both of his. “I need to keep you safe…we don’t know where he is, or what his next move is.”

She glared at him. “I’m here with you, and the property is protected by surveillance,” she reminded him. “You’re not paying money out for bodyguards, for Chrissakes.”

The detective hid a smile behind his cup as he drank his coffee, but said nothing.

“Your safety is more important than money!” Thranduil said, stressing to make his point. “I’m having security brought in, whether you like it or not.”

“Ha…we’ll see,” she said, pulling her hands back.

He groaned, lowering his head to rest his forehead against his hands on the table. “Are all wives this stubborn, or just mine?” he asked no-one in particular.

Davis smiled. “For what it’s worth, Mrs Oropherion…I’d let your husband do this,” he told her. “He obviously cares enough for your well-being. Allow him peace of mind, if nothing else.”

Her eyes went back to Thranduil as he lifted his head, and the pain she saw in his eyes took her breath away.

“I love you…I cannot lose you,” he said in a voice a little over a whisper. “Today was the worst day of my life, and I will _not_ go through that again. Neither will you. Let me do this.” He gazed at her. “I’m doing it anyway,” he decided in determination.

The two visitors laughed at the shocked look on her face at his sudden change of tone.

“Let him win this one,” Turner advised, draining his cup. “I’m sure there will be plenty more battles you can have the upper hand on.”

“If my marriage is anything to go by, they’ll be happening on a daily basis, dammit,” the judge grumbled, getting to his feet. “Anyway, we’ll leave you to your evening. And see you first thing?”

“We’ll be there,” Thranduil assured him, also rising. “And thankyou.” He shook hands again with him, and with Turner, who wished Alisha all the best as they departed.

He closed the door behind them, leaning his head against the wood for a few moments.

“Babe?”

He straightened his shoulders as he turned to face her.

“We’ve won,” she said softly.

“I know,” he whispered, feeling his eyes begin to well up. “Legolas will stay with us. We did it.”

She smiled as she walked towards him, a genuine smile that told him she was heading towards her old self again.

“I can’t believe it’s finally almost over,” he said softly. “We’ve won our case, but at your expense…”

She stepped into his arms, holding him in a rib-crushing hug. “Don’t think like that,” she whispered in his ear, placing a soft kiss to his neck. “Don’t think about it. Just look to the future, not how we’re getting there.”

He tightened his arms around her back, absorbing her aroma and her presence. “I’m going to call Bard, then take you back upstairs,” he told her. “Just let me call him first. Or do you need anything to eat? Are you hungry?”

She shook her head against him. “No. I’m ok.”

His chest expanded against her as he took a deep breath. “Let me grab my phone, and we’ll go up to bed,” he said.

*****

Alisha glanced at the clock beside the bed, frowning groggily as the red numbers glowed 04:12. She’d been in a deep sleep, and yet again had woken up for no reason.

Thranduil snored softly beside her, lying on his stomach with his head turned towards her on his pillow, his arm across her abdomen. He hadn’t pushed her to make love when he’d settled into bed with her, just given her tender kisses and held her until she relaxed enough to fall asleep.

Her mind wandered back through what had happened the day they’d first slept with each other. The memory of the news report brought back the horror of what she’d gone through, the devastating heartbreak at the possibility that he’d been in the crashed vehicle and had died was still painful to think about. Her head turned towards him, and she gazed at him in the dim light coming from the hallway.

His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted. His long hair was spread out on his back and shoulders, some of it having fallen forwards onto the bed. He looked completely relaxed and at peace. But he’d suffered in the last eighteen hours or so.

What she’d gone through over the news bulletin was nothing compared to what he must have been through. Having two cops show up at the door and telling him she’d been airlifted from a crash would have floored him. Thankfully he’d had Legolas to help him keep his fragile grip on reality as he’d made the journey to the hospital, and for that, she was grateful.

She’d been worried though, over the cost of the now destroyed vehicle he’d paid thousands for. Worried about seemingly nothing, she acknowledged to herself as she shifted slightly. He hadn’t seemed to care a toss about the car. She sighed quietly, staring up at the darkened ceiling above her.

Charlie Ross wasn’t going to disappear, and she knew it as sure as she knew her own name.

But she didn’t hate him.

Without the presence of him and his equally dark-hearted, greedy wife, the entire scenario she’d found herself in would never have happened. Thranduil wouldn’t have been facing the court case, he wouldn’t have offered her the job as his wife to fool the courts, and they wouldn’t have fallen in love. They wouldn’t be lying as they were, curled up together and deeply in love with each other.

A smile curved her lips as she thought about the warm feeling she had in her stomach every time he locked gazes with her. Or when she heard his deep voice, or smelled his cologne. The melting feeling whenever his hand brushed hers as he passed her something. The fire that flowed through her when he kissed her. Or the volcano that erupted when he made love to her.

She eased herself out of bed and pulled her robe on. A coffee would help her to get back into the frame of mind to sleep, a thing he’d commented on humorously in the past, as coffee was supposed to keep a person awake. She crept out of the room and pulled the door over, not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber.

The house was silent as she went downstairs and into the kitchen, switching the light on and flooding the space with blindingly bright light. She squinted and muttered to herself, heading over to fill the kettle. Switching it on, she hunted in the cupboard for a cookie or something; something to munch on while she waited. Apparently tiny fingers had found the chocolate cookies, as the lid of the plastic tub hadn’t been put back correctly, and the tub was empty.

She shook her head with a smile as she put it in the sink for washing in the morning. Legolas was at that adorable age where he was into absolutely everything, and kept her on her toes from dawn until dusk. He was a ray of sunshine though, and she grew closer and closer to him as each day passed. So like his father in both looks and mannerisms, she knew he’d have females trailing after him as he hit puberty.

The kettle boiled quickly, and she took a mug and spooned her coffee and sugar into it, stirring the hot water as she poured it in. Placing the kettle back, she lifted the cup.

It shattered in her hands, red-hot black coffee splashing in all directions and soaking her. Glass from the patio doors smashed onto the floor.

She squealed at the sudden burn, jumping backwards. A ping shot past her ear, and her heart stopped as the glass unit door beside her smashed to smithereens.

Somebody was shooting at her.

Following her instinct and dropping to the floor, she scrambled over to the doorway and flew to her feet, running up the stairs.

Thranduil appeared in the bedroom doorway, yanking on his jeans. “Alisha! What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. “What was that noise?”

She gasped for breath. “Somebody’s shooting into the house,” she panted, and his face turned white.

“Get down on the bedroom floor!” he ordered, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the bedroom. “Keep the lights off!”

“You are _not_ going down there!” she shouted angrily, grabbing a fistful denim as he turned away from her. “I’m calling the cops. Don’t you dare leave this room!”

“Where the fuck did I put my damned phone?” he snarled, searching in the dark for it. “I need to call Bard.”

“It’s on the night stand,” she replied, dialling rapidly on her phone and connecting. “Yeah…I need police assistance,” she said into the phone, pulling her hair back from her face. “Somebody’s shooting at my house…yes…yes…that’s the one.” The call handler talked in her ear, verifying her address and her identity before telling her officers were being dispatched immediately.

Beside her, Thranduil muttered angrily as he connected with Bard’s voicemail, leaving him a message about what was happening. He gripped Alisha’s hand, his fingers squeezing hers.

“We have to get out of here,” she whispered to him. “We’re sitting ducks like this. He’ll come in after us.”

“You’re not leaving this room,” he whispered back, anger in his hushed tone. “He’s going to kill you, Alisha. You’re staying here.”

“Well so the fuck are you!” she hissed, gripping him tighter. “You are not leaving me up here while you go and play hero with a fucking maniac! I don’t want a dead husband!”

“I just need to keep you safe until the police get here,” he whispered, touching her cheek. “I won’t be long.”

“Thranduil!” she snarled, refusing to let go. He moved away from her, but she retained her grip and was dragged partly along the floor.

“Alisha! Let go!” he whispered urgently.

“No!” she snapped. “Where you go, I go!”

Banging and crunching noises drifted up from downstairs, and the pair froze, forgetting their struggle with each other.

Thranduil’s eyes darted to the window. “Go out of the window,” he whispered.

“Come with me,” she said.

“Just go,” he urged, half dragging her to her feet. He pulled her over to the window, sliding the pane of glass upwards. “Go…jump,” he whispered.

She slid her legs out and balanced on the ledge. “Promise you’ll be right after me,” she said over her shoulder, her heart hammering hard in her chest. She screeched as he pushed hard, dropping into the darkness onto the grass below and curling into a ball on impact. A solid thump next to her told her he was at her back, and she flew to her feet, grabbing his hand.

“C’mon, run!” she shouted, breaking into a sprint.

The two of them hurtled across the grass towards the trees, seeking the refuge within.

“Both of you…get down!” a voice roared in the darkness.

Thranduil recognised Bard’s voice and immediately slid his arm around her, dragging her to a heap on the grass. A gunshot rang out, then silence.

A thump echoed behind them.

Too terrified to move, Alisha lay half trapped under the weight holding her down.

Seconds ticked past.

“It’s over, guys,” Bard’s voice said, sounding much closer to them.

Thranduil lifted his head, his eyes scanning the darkness for his friend. A figure emerged from the trees in front of them.

“He’s dead,” Bard said. “It’s over.”


	24. Chapter 24

** CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR **

****

Alisha ran her hand through her hair, exhausted beyond comprehension. The coffee in the polystyrene cup in front of her was rank, and she shoved it away in disgust. The room was too cold, and far too brightly lit.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer now, folks,” Detective Turner announced as he entered the room. “We’ll have you home and settled as soon as we can.”

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to sleep,” Thranduil murmered beside her, glancing at her in concern. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright,” she replied. “Just tired and worn out. I need peace. And sleep.”

The dishevelled detective nodded apologetically. “The processing unit’s almost done,” he told them. “And Judge Davis is aware of tonight’s events. Let’s just say he’s outraged, and was doing a fair amount of cursing when I called him.”

“No wonder, being woken up at this time of morning,” she said dryly. She leaned sideways slightly and rested her head on Thranduil’s shoulder, and he put his arm around her. “He’ll be cranky come breakfast time.”

“He’s always cranky,” Turner muttered. “Mr Bowman’s giving his statement to my partner, and will be with you shortly.”

Bard had apparently been silently surveying their house from the shadows of the trees for a few hours before Charlie Ross had appeared and opened fire, having turned his phone off so he wouldn’t be discovered. Gandalf’s worried call had come through at the right time, as he’d been headed home after closing up his office for the day, and he’d changed direction and headed over towards his friend’s home instead.

Ross had been pronounced dead at the scene, and ballistics had collected the bullets from the kitchen to verify they’d come from his gun. The house had been a blaze of activity after the shooting, with coroner’s vans, squad cars, paramedics, and just about everyone in the precinct who had descended on them.

A sharp rap on the door made all three heads turn.

“Ross’s wife is in custody,” an officer told them, sticking his head around the door. “We’re holding her until the morning, and she’ll be charged then.”

“Good,” Turner said with a nod. “Make sure she’s isolated. I don’t want her talking with other prisoners. Keep her in a cell of her own, out of everyone’s way. She can rot until the morning.”

The officer nodded and closed the door as he disappeared.

Thranduil kissed Alisha’s head. “It’s finally over,” he said softly. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”

She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “I want to go home,” she whispered. “Take me home.”

“I will,” he promised. “I will.”

*****

Morning arrived all too soon, bringing its own version of chaotic activity with it. The couple went to court as arranged, meeting up with Gandalf on the way. The judge kept to his word and dismissed the case, allowing Thranduil to retain custody of Legolas. Charlie Ross’s wife was being charged with everything they could pin on her, and posed no threat.

Gandalf heaved a resolute sigh as they left the courthouse. “I must say…this has been one hell of an adventure,” he remarked.

Thranduil glared at him. “It’s not exactly what I would call _an adventure,_ ” he retorted. “How about the worst time of our lives? I think that would be more appropriate.”

Alisha discreetly squeezed his fingers which were wound through hers. “It’s over now,” she reminded him. “We have to move on, move forwards. There’s a lot of living to do in front of us, and we won’t be able to enjoy it if we’re stuck in the past.”

Ice blue eyes gazed thoughtfully down at her, and she knew he was thinking even further back, to Ted and the atrocious secret life he’d led. “Perhaps you’re right,” he murmered.

She smiled up at him. “I’m female, therefore I’m always right,” she replied. “Are we going to hang out here all day, or are we going home to make sure everything’s being done the way we want it?”

He nodded. “Gandalf, send me your final bill,” he told the attorney. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

“I will,” he said. “In the meantime, go home, rest, and take life easy. You’ve seen too much action these last couple of days for my liking. I personally am taking the day off, and I’ll be in a secret location, which will be a golf course somewhere undisclosed. My phone will be turned off, and I’ll be ignoring everything except the battle between myself and the golf ball.”

She grinned. “Well good luck with that,” she said. “And thanks for everything you’ve done.”

“My pleasure, my dear,” he smiled, with a little bow. He turned and walked away, leaving them behind.

“Shall we go home and see how much carnage has been done?” Thranduil asked, watching him go.

She nodded. “Yeah. I want to go home.”

*****

Thranduil tutted under his breath as they climbed out of the car. His employees had turned up at the crack of dawn to carry out repairs to the house, replacing the patio doors and cleaning the area. The glass door in the kitchen had been replaced, and inside had been swept and mopped. Alisha was impressed, but he wasn’t.

He hadn’t wanted to come home to find several work vans still in his drive.

“All finished, boss,” one of the workers announced, heading down the steps towards them. “We wanted to hang around and make sure you’re both alright.”

He lifted his eyebrows in slight surprise. “Yes…we’re both fine,” he told him. “I thought you’d have been gone by now.”

The worker grinned. “We should have been. But we had to see it with our own eyes that y’all were ok. Not that we don’t trust Mr Rivendell, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes, we do, and we appreciate it,” she said, putting her hand on her husband’s lower back. “It’s just been one hell of a long night, and we’re really tired.”

The man nodded. “That’s understandable,” he said, and whistled loudly through his teeth. “We’ll be heading off then, and let you get some peace and quiet. Oh, Mr O…” He stopped and turned mid-stride heading towards his van. “Mr R called, said he’d bring your boy back this evening.”

“Thankyou,” Thranduil replied, his driveway filling up with the workers who’d appeared to get into their vehicles and depart. He turned to her with a deep sigh. “I don’t know about you, my darling, but I am sorely in need of something hot to drink, and some sleep.”

She nodded, falling into step beside him as they climbed the steps. “I’m more shattered than I’ve ever been,” she admitted. “I stayed awake for two whole nights just before Ted died, and I didn’t feel as tired as I do now.”

He ushered her inside in front of him, placing his hand on her back as she passed. “There’s been several unwanted adrenalin peaks and crashes,” he said. “They’re bound to wear you out. I just hope we can look forward to some peace and tranquillity for a while. We’ve been through enough with those two bastards.”

“We have,” she agreed. “I’m kinda peckish…fancy some toast and cheese?”

“Mmm, sounds good,” he grinned. “I’ll make some coffee for us if you’re going to do that.”

They entered the kitchen.

“You wouldn’t know anything had happened here,” she commented, taking bread out. “The guys have left the place spotless.”

“That’s what I pay them for,” he grunted. “I would expect nothing less from them.”

“Such a hard taskmaster,” she quipped with a grin as she reached into the fridge for the block of cheese. “They’ve done a really good job, babe – you can’t take that away from them.”

“No, that’s true,” he conceded as he moved past her with the kettle to fill it. “God…I could fall asleep standing up, I’m so drained.”

“We’ll be tucked up before you know it,” she said. “Why don’t we take our eats upstairs? Snuggle up and watch tv until we fall asleep?”

“That sounds ideal to me,” he smiled.

*****

One week later.

Alisha was lying on her side on the padded recliner on the patio, half asleep but still functioning on a basic level. Thranduil lay on his side facing her on the lounger next to her, just watching her.

“What is it?” she murmered

He smiled knowingly. “Legolas has a surprise for you,” he said. “Legolas! Where’s Alisha’s present?”

His head shot up. “Pwesent!” he shouted. “Eesha pwesent…lemme go get it…”

She frowned in confusion as he toddled off, his little feet scampering into the house as he abandoned his digger. “What are you two up to?”

Thranduil’s smile widened to a grin, and his eyes sparkled. “Not a thing, my darling, not a thing.,” he replied.

“Ha.” She yawned and stretched, relaxing once more.

A few seconds passed and little feet thundered back out onto the decking.

“Eesha,” Legolas said proudly, holding a large envelope. “Pwesent.”

She pushed herself into a sitting position and took it from him. “Thankyou, baby boy,” she said. “Can I open it now?”

“Open,” he nodded.

Her eyes flicked up to her husband who merely smirked as she tore open the envelope. She frowned as she peered inside, and tipped it up.

Shredded, torn pieces of paper fell out and landed on her lap.

“Have you gone mad?” she asked, looking back at him. “What’s this?”

“Piece it back together, and you’ll see,” he replied, closing his eyes and smirking in satisfaction.

“Stop it,” she said. “Tell me what this mess is supposed to be.”

He opened his eyes again, staring straight into hers. “Our future.”

“What?” Her confusion deepened.

He propped himself up onto one elbow. “Take a closer look, baby,” he said softly.

Scowling at him, she lifted a couple of the pieces, trying to work out what nonsense he was on about.

He watched her as her face changed, realisation slowly dawning on her.

“Thranduil…what…” She trailed off, looking back at him.

He smiled.

“This…this is the contract we signed,” she said, her voice little louder than a whisper. “This is my employment contract.”

“I know,” he replied.

“But…”

He sat upright and swung his legs down, facing her and taking her hands in his. “Alisha, I love you with all my heart,” he said softly. “Forget the contract. Forget the agreement. Forget the legalities and all that horse-shit we talked about back in the beginning. I love you and I want you to be my wife for the rest of our lives, not a paid employee. And if I’m not mistaken, you love me too.”

She nodded, and he could see the tears gathering in her eyes.

“So make this real,” he whispered. “Make this marriage as real as our feelings for one another. Be Legolas’s mother, be the woman who will walk through life at my side. Be the woman who yells at me for leaving dirty laundry on the bathroom floor, who reminds me to fill the car with gas, who keeps me sane when my work life is falling apart. Let me come home to you every day, bring you flowers for no reason whatsoever, share baths with you, make love to you until you can’t speak because you’ve screamed yourself hoarse. Let me love you baby, for the rest of our lives together.”

Her tears slid down her cheeks, and he leaned towards her and softly kissed them away. She turned her head slightly and captured his mouth with hers, a shuddering breath leaving her as he kissed her.

“I love you _so_ much, Thranduil,” she whispered. “I never expected you, or love, or any of this when I took that job all those years ago. I didn’t expect anything.”

“Neither did I when I stormed into that house,” he replied, gently nuzzling her cheek. “I certainly never expected to have my entire life turned upside down by a stunningly gorgeous, sexy, five-feet-eight, blue-eyed beauty who had the ability to make me forget my own name.”

She laughed against him as he chuckled in her ear. “I don’t know who she is,” she joked.

He pulled back a little, framing her face with his hands. “She is the most amazing wife and mother ever to grace this planet,” he told her. “And I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’m the luckiest man alive.” Blue eyes held hers. “You mean the world to me.”

“And you to me,” she whispered. “You and Legolas, both.”

“Then here’s to the rest of our lives together,” he whispered back. “The saying is _marry in haste; repent at leisure._ We married in haste, but it’s the best thing we ever did.” His mouth touched hers in the softest kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over for Thranduil and Alisha. They've retained custody of baby Legolas, and fallen head over heels in love with each other in the process. Now they look forward to sharing their lives together for real, and not as stated in an employment contract.
> 
> Thankyou as always to all my readers, and for all those who took the time and commented. Each hit, kudo, and comment means the world to me, as it means I must be doing something right in my work. I'm taking a break for a while - a much-needed one at that - having been writing non-stop for the last eighteen months or so. Time to chill out, recharge the batteries, and hopefully come up with some inspiration for some more sexy Thranduil stories. Stay safe people, and keep Thranduil-ing x


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